Thirty Days in the Daze
by Estavius
Summary: Thirty days, (almost) thirty short chapters. COMPLETED with only twenty-five chapters.
1. Introduction

A'ight so, here's an introduction to what exactly it is I'm doing. If you don't really care, just skip to the next chapter, although I suppose it might be nice to get a disclaimer first.

Thirty Days in the Daze is my attempt to write on a daily basis, for the entire month of April. I'll be using writing prompts to come up with scenarios almost daily, although I may use more than one day to continue a previous one-shot that I was unable to complete in that time. I'd bet now that I'm probably going to miss at least one day, but hey, at least I tried... right?

Due to this, I will probably be unable to edit (most) entries and leave plenty to be desired in the writing, but hopefully it'll be alright.

Hopefully.


	2. April Fools' (1)

April Fools' (1)

Kido always hated April Fools' Day. It was never a good experience, to be living with one of the most notorious pranksters in the Dan. Kido was scared of the day, terrified even. Every year, Kano seemed to have taken it upon himself to make the day's horrors worse. Every single year, more and more elaborate schemes piled up on top of each other, sending Kido's anxiety through the roof. Whether it was the raging inferno that _didn't_ set their apartment on fire to the _accidental_ discovery of sharks in the bathtub, Kano was certainly a very creative individual.

So once more, the day approached, and Kido waited in dread. What marvelous contraption of chaos had Kano planned this year? Was he going to wake her up at 12:00am with a firecracker that would set fire to her bed again? Maybe Kano would leave a present waiting for her somewhere, the kitchen maybe? She was lucky, if that word was even applicable here, that this year, school didn't fall on that terrible April first. Being publicly humiliated, even for the 'ghost' was never an entertaining experience.

Kido had one hope, however maligned it was. In the introduction of five new members, maybe, just maybe, Kano would take the day to greet them in his favourite manner, with a soul crushingly painful prank. The blonde certainly enjoyed tormenting Shintaro, but was that desire strong enough to divert Kano's attention? Kido hoped so, but knew in the end that it was just wishful thinking.

On March 31st, at 11:30pm, Kido stared at her phone, and willed the awful day to disappear from her life. At the Dan, they could all do without some of Kano's antics. Yet, despite her most earnest wishes, Kido's pleas could do nothing to the flow of time, and the clock ticked, every second coming closer to the fateful day. Twenty minutes, ten minutes, five minutes, one. Thirty seconds, twenty, ten, and… none.

On April 1st, at 12:00am, Kido closed her eyes, prepared for the screams, the laughter, and the blonde's oh-so-carefree laughter. What she got however, was a quiet peaceful midnight. From her bed, covers tucked all the way up to her neck to prevent any _dangerous_ liquids from spilling on her, Kido heard nothing. Kido heard nothing of Marry's screams, she couldn't get a single tip of Kano's running. Kido detected nothing from Seto's neighboring room, nor from Kano's on the opposite side. Suspicious.

At 1:00am, Kido was still mostly awake, uncertain and fearful. Kano had, in the past three years, never missed the opportunity to prank her on the brink of the new day, saying that it would've 'wasted a perfectly good part of April Fools' Day' if he hadn't. Did he really intend to waste part of April Fools' Day? No, Kido should be happy. Kido should've be happy that he hadn't pranked her, or bombed her, or dropped a lizard on her, but why was she so uneasy? The lack of such actions made her all the more weary of a big one.

At 3:00am, Kido was reaching her limit. Barely able to keep her eyes open, Kido might've just been better off sleeping and waking to her walls painted a shade of indecent with certain magazines, but that would be conceding to Kano. No, Kido would have to keep up her vigil. It was for the Dan, and her sanity. Mostly the latter.

At 11:20am, Kido awoke, realizing immediately that something was wrong. Natural light streamed in from the window, illuminating a regular looking room. There were no bombs, no steaming pots of goats' eggs, nothing. It was her room. Kido rolled over to the side of the bed, checking the ground for any traps. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, and nothing. Not even under the bed. What had Kano spent the night doing then?

At 11:30am, Kido realized that her room was, to the best of her ability, completely and utterly prankless. It was void of any idiot activity. Kido had searched for a good ten minutes, but came up with nothing. Underneath her bed there was nothing but Marry's worse poems (confiscated for her own good), the closet was arranged exactly how she had left it, and everything else seemed to be right in place. Still, there was a tingling sense of forgetfulness in the back of her mind, although Kido was clueless as to what it was… right.

Although Kano was perfectly capable of cooking on a daily basis, Kido was always shafted with the role due to fear of Kano testing out his wonderful ability to experiment by mixing soy sauce with vinegar and ginger ale. A little bit of MAX coffee sometimes for all the tastes of the rainbow and guaranteed vomit. Kido pitied Seto, to wake up to Kano's cooking. Kido could never tell whether or not Kano truly enjoyed his 'wonder mixtures' or not, but they were always in every meal he prepared.

It was with a heavy heart and despairing stomach that Kido left her room, always mindful of the possibility of a spitwad flying out from the shadows to bombard her. Yet, no matter how cautious Kido was, she never found a single bit of any prank. It was just as suspicious as Kano _not_ trespassing into her room on April Fools', because it was one of those things never happen no matter how many times you pray for it.

"Good morning!" Kano greeted her, his grin deceptively wide as he offered her an omelet, chopsticks neatly balanced on the plate. Kido frowned, taking the omelet, but not touching it.

"Is something wrong?" Kano asked, as he smiled with his irritating smile.

"No." Kido replied quickly, not wanting to bring up the subject of April Fools' Day. Who knows, maybe Kano forgot this year. Maybe he just upped and lost track of his favourite day of the year. Kido nibbled on the omelet. Delicious. Where was the poison? Where was the biological pains from tasting four different extremes at once? The ghost pepper, the syrup, where were the torturous tastes?

"Isn't it great?" Kano gloated, as he propped his elbows onto the table to stare intensely at Kido eating her breakfast. What was he watching so closely for? A reaction? A gag reflex? Vomit? Was Kido's hair going to change colour?

"Yes." Kido answered simply, afraid of where the conversation was going. Had Kano truly forgotten? Could life be so kind?

"Have to love April, it's the time of spring." Kano interjected, raising the fear once more. It was clear that he hadn't lost his touch, nor had Kano let the day escape from him. Kido had no idea why she hadn't felt greasy egg yolks pound her from a homemade catapult, or the burn of charcoal hidden in her slippers.

Kido, ever so wary of the danger that Kano posed, gulped down the delicious omelet and began to wash the dishes immediately. There were no crabs in the sink, no other creature either. Just dishes and cutlery. How cunning. Was Kano's plan to ease her into negligence until he could pull the biggest prank of all onto her? Well, something as childish as that wouldn't work on her. Years of Kano's tricks would make anyone clever enough to see through a ruse like this. The big one was coming, and it was going to be huge.

"Ah-" Kido said, before she realized that the blonde was already gone. Very mysterious. Could he have perhaps left to go ensure that his preparations had gone smoothly? Surely Kano was still in the apartment somewhere, tending to the biggest, best prank he'd ever pulled. It was just too bad that Kido had realized this soon. Maybe it was something in the bathroom, since every other room Kido would frequent seemed to be scot-free of any plans.

This time, Kido would beat Kano at his own game. She would find and sabotage anything that Kano did, all the while keeping tabs on her own things and their placement. Of course Kano was going to put it somewhere he knew she would go, so naturally Kido had to act a little out of the ordinary. Maybe she'd visit the Kisaragi siblings, rather than finishing the assignments from school on time. Still, that would give Kano time to prepare. Was it worth taking the risk? The preparations could have already been complete, for all Kido knew. Kano was never one to sloppily prank others.

Kido, weighing the odds, figured that it was more safe to just go to the Kisaragi household, because for all the good she could do at in the apartment, Kano was probably one step ahead of her. After all, Kido had slept in, giving him plenty of time to do whatever it was he needed to do. By dropping into the Kisaragi's, Kido would get the perfect excuse to leave the apartment, in a 'natural' way. Kano would suspect nothing.

**So, to go with the holiday, here's the April Fools' chapter! Unfortunately, I couldn't actually finish it today (procrastination), so here's the first half.**


	3. April Fools' (2)

April Fools' (2)

The Kisaragi household was no large building, nor was it anything fancy whatsoever. It was, much like the Dan's main hideout, an apartment. Er, condo, morelike, which was probably why there weren't tons of fans screaming for Momo's autograph. Or perhaps, her home was kept a secret? Light thinking was nice, a distraction from the looming threat of Kano.

Kido knocked lightly, rapping her knuckles on the familiar doorframe. To most people, this would be an odd occurrence, to hear sound emerge from nowhere. Still, either way most residents would probably just assume the sound was the fault of a neighbor as opposed to an invisible girl. Most humans in existence didn't know about the heat haze in general, so Kido supposed it would be rather hard for anyone to prove her being there anyway. Security cameras had nothing on her either.

"Who is it?" Momo questioned, opening the door to no one. Kido stared at her without being seen, wondering if the idol would catch on. Thankfully she did, because if anyone competent was watching the video feeds, a girl appearing out of thin air would be pretty suspicious. Then again, were security personnel even required to watch every camera feed simultaneously for anything that could go wrong? Kido didn't know, but she supposed that would be such a mindless and boring job that no one would bother.

"Okay then." Momo grinned, as she stepped aside to leave the doorway open. Wordlessly, Kido stepped inward, abandoning her shoes for a set of slippers carelessly left by the doorway. Momo, maybe confirming that the slippers did indeed move of their own volition and that she wasn't insane to be waiting on thin air, closed the door behind her.

"Danchou!" Momo cried out, and glomped Kido, revealing her to the… blonde? Come to think of it, Kido was never really sure what exactly Momo's hair colour was. Orange? Were there hints of black? Would that be called blonde or did there exist a word to describe someone with orange hair? They were all very good questions, just entirely irrelevant in every way possible. Kido was sure that to ask would be an awkward preposition. Ah well, at least Kano couldn't touch her here.

"I didn't expect you over, so we didn't really have much food." Momo explained, as she led Kido through the condo.

"'Didn't'? I'm here right now, did you go shopping?" Kido inquired, making light conversation. Momo paused in front of her room, glancing to the side to her brother's.

Kido silently considered whether or not Momo had a brother complex, before dismissing it. Its existence didn't really matter, because if word got out at all, Momo's fans would be outraged. To add onto that, incest was illegal, which may be just a little more important. Just a little.

"Kano brought some food over, enough that we don't need to go for another week." Momo went on, tapping on her brother's closed door. Kano was at the Kisaragi household? Did he predict Kido's actions before she even left? Was that where he had gone, to the place he knew she'd run to?

"Kano's here?" Kido said, as she voiced her confusion. Momo giggled, although Kido had no idea why, and tapped again.

"Come in! We're just about done." Takane hollered. With that invitation, Momo wasted no time bursting into the room, taking a few seconds to take in the scenario, and broke out laughing. Kido had to admit, it was… something.

"Get me down!" Shintaro screamed. Kido couldn't blame him really; she'd be pretty ticked off if she were strung up to the ceiling. How Shintaro even managed to get up there, she had no idea. Kano glanced her way and gave the victory pose, while Takane just couldn't stop laughing beside him. Konoha stared at the hanging Shintaro, munching on some peculiar twisted form of bread.

Kido's confusion grew even stronger, pelting her like rocks. Scratch that thought; thoughts didn't hurt as much as rocks did. Still, Kano was here, and he was tormenting Shintaro over tormenting her? Kido had counted her blessings the moment it passed 12:00am, but this was just something else entirely. Luck? That was never on her side, so Kido couldn't expect it now. That little smirk of Kano's made everything uncertain, unraveled all logical thought processes. Kano had planned this, of course.

So at 1:30pm, Kido found herself sitting down with the Kisaragi siblings, two senpais that her sister was fond of, and worst of all, Kano. Actually strike that, Shintaro was still being hung up by a complex set of pulleys somehow arranged in his room. Kido supposed that Takane would have had no problem moving such heavy tools when she could possess them, but it was all a little elaborate. Could this have been her fate had Kano meant to prank her? Was this what was waiting for her?

By 1:45pm, Shintaro had managed to convince Takane to let him down, only to be the victim of a bucket of ice water being sent his way. Conversations sprung up, and Kido felt a bit put out by the lack of pranks. Had Kano really ignored her for the first time on April Fools' Day?

Around 2:00pm, Kido was wondering why she was so tensed up. Kano had yet to make a move, yet she felt awkward around her _friends_ and the closest people she had to family. Shintaro glanced her way every now and then, maybe catching on to Kido's hesitation. Still, he never called her out on it.

At exactly 3:30pm on April 1, or so Kido's phone told her, Momo finally called her out on it. Kido was worried about it happening, just that she didn't expect Momo Kisaragi to be the first to speak up.

"Danchou, are you okay?" Momo inquired, and she sounded genuinely worried, something that only made Kido feel worse. It was one thing to be cautious and careful around others, but to worry her fellow members of the Dan was something else entirely.

"Yes, don't think much of it. Just slept in, that's all." Kido faked a smile, uneasily watching Kano's eyes gravitate her direction.

It took her two hours and thirty minutes or so to snap. By 4:00pm, Kido couldn't take it anymore. Kido had had enough of the loud raucous nothings, the prankless afternoons _with _Kano present, and the scarily mirthful glances the blonde kept sending her way. That and Shintaro's observation of her got on Kido's nerves, her frayed brain cracking much earlier than she would have hoped for.

"Kido are you sure nothing's wrong?" Momo echoed her previous question.

"What do you mean?" Kido replied tensely.

"You've been a little… what's the word… off today. Are you sick?"

"No! He put you up to this, didn't he. You're all in on this together, aren't you? What a nice prank to pull on me, but I'm just not going to take it." Kido snapped, leaping to her feet and pointing her finger accusingly at Kano, who broke into a fit of laughter.

"What?" Takane asked, face curiously innocent. The raven was acting, Kido knew, the prankster a prankster at heart. Two years of tormenting Shintaro meant that Takane would easily be able to deceive her at a face level. Kido wouldn't take this anymore. It just wasn't a fair investment of time, to stay here. Surely they were all laughing behind her back, in their minds, that Kido had yet to realize anything. Well, they'd laugh no more.

"I'm out. OUT." Kido snarled, going invisible and storming to the door, and slammed it on her way out. Perhaps not the best idea when the camera feed would have picked up on an invisible force closing the door, but did Kido care? Not really at this point.

Kido needed a little alone time. Time without Kano's annoyingly calm face. Kido needed to get away from the Dan, from the monkeys, from all the trouble they caused. So Kido wandered the large city of Mekaku, and diverted her attention from the annoyance that was Kano. Kido explored shops and darted through parks, yet she always ended up returning to one place. It was a playground, the one Ayano had shown the three siblings and where they spent a fair amount of time on off-days. They had all long since outgrown the playground, but it was always a relaxing environment.

A few hours passed by in reminisce, Kido beginning to regret her actions. Had Kido been too rash, too headstrong, too rude? It really was unbecoming of the danchou to be so childish as to let Kano get to her even after a decade of living together. Kido knew she should go back, to apologize to them all, but her stubborn side refused to return only to be smashed in the face by a chicken in a straightjacket or something similarly insane. Kano could've easily booby-trapped the apartment in her absence.

"Kido? I knew you'd be here." An all-too-familiar voice called out, lifting Kido from her reverie. Seto appeared, in all his froggy brilliance, striding up from behind her. It felt weird to look up to her once shorter brother, but Kido supposed she should've gotten used to it by now. Kido glanced expectantly towards her brother.

"You should probably go back and eat." Seto recommended.

"Mm."

"Kano said he'd forgive you with open arms." Seto added. Kano said what?

"Wait, did Kano send you? Did he make you find me?" Kido immediately went on the defensive,

"No, he only said that he-"

"I'll stay out for a bit longer, thanks. I'll come home by myself, eat dinner without me." Kido interrupted. She knew it was in bad taste, when Seto would be the one who for sure genuinely worried. Kido knew it was childish, that it was foolish and dumb and impatient. Kido knew that very well about herself, and that it was a naïve thing to do. Still, Seto listened and left her to her devices, making her feel all the worse.

Kido laughed to herself, walking away from the playground of memories long since passed. It was ironic that in the place where they forged their friendship she was ignoring her brothers. Kido would apologize, for sure, but for now she'd leave it to settle. Maybe let her temper even out, and get some fresher air. That park was looking great.

A few hours of roaming wouldn't hurt. Maybe Kido would visit Ayano's grave again, she hadn't done that since well… since Shintaro had gone, a rather unsettling memory. The older boy's tears were fresh on Kido's memory, the impact of her sister's self-sacrifice all too clear. Ah, what life would've been like with Ayano was a mystery. Better, for sure. But that recollection could only bring back tears, so Kido shook off the train of thought, and wandered once more through the city of Mekaku.

At 12:00am, the beginning of April 2, Kido realized that the day was finally over. Kido had gone unpranked, something virtually unthinkable on April Fools' Day. Kido's hunger went unnoticed, ignored, but the relief she felt was unthinkable. Kido rushed home to the apartment, to the Dan, and thought up apologies galore, excuses, explanations, anything and everything.

At 12:25am on April 2, Kido finally gave in and decided to go to bed. Anything still there couldn't be sanctioned under an 'April Fools' prank'. It was probably safe to return to her room. Emphasis on probably. Kido swung open the door, ducking to the side to avoid any projectiles. Nothing, just nothing. Thank the gods if they existed, or whatever other entities or greater powers existed.

Kido stripped herself of her outer garments, crawling into a strangely warm bed. Still, April Fools' was over, so this couldn't be a prank. Then Kido felt it. A strangely flesh-like texture, warm, heated, _alive_. Kido saw the yellow eyes as they stared at her in the dark, like orbs of light. Kano. Kano was in her bed. Kido opened her mouth to scream, but found a finger on her lips. Any thoughts of apologies were forgotten, and Kido's mind went blank.

"Shh." Kano whispered, his smirk forming nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" Kido scrambled to the side of the bed, stealing away the bedsheets to cover herself fully. To her chagrin, Kano was half nude, upper body abnormally lean and muscular for a delinquent like him. When was the last time Kido had seen Kano's upper body unmasked? Then again, there was no guarantee as to whether or not he was using his abilities to fluster her. Kido couldn't give into the provocations, that would be letting Kano win.

"Happy April Fools' Day." Kano said, voice as soft as the wind. Kido immediately put her arms up on instinct, but nothing came. There was just one thing, one very very important thing she had to confirm.

"April Fools' Day was yesterday." Kido hissed. Her phone couldn't be wrong, as an electronic device, but Kano, being a human being, could make errors. Even ones as big as forgetting his favourite holiday seemed to be plausible now. Kano only smiled his irritating smile, as if he knew something Kido didn't.

"No, it's not. April Fools' Day is today." Kano reasserted himself.

"Stop with the lies." Kido reprimanded him. Kano was too old to not understand the day of the month. Either it was on purpose, or Kano really didn't deserve his test scores.

"I'm not lying. I changed every clock in the apartment and your cell phone timer." Kano explained in a hushed whisper. Kido froze. What? How did he even? When did Kano get the time to do that? How had she not noticed? Was Kano still speaking a load of bull even at this moment? As if reading her mind, Kano opened up his phone, the bright display burning into her eyes. "12:29 – April 1", it said.

"Happy April Fools' Day."

**I am so sorry about how out of character these characters are. The narrative may or may not be mixed with my own thought trains, and the characters may be a little lacking on the character part. Or at least that's what my impression of it is. Not really sure.**

**I wasn't really fond of the character interactions, but hopefully the ending made up for it.**

**I also finished this with two minutes to spare before the day finished. Whops.**


	4. Money up in Smoke

Money up in Smoke

August 15 came once more, the day of the heat haze, the mythical world without time. A year had passed quickly, almost alarmingly so. Once, I would have grumbled, and listened to depressing music in my headphones. Now, I had a bigger obligation, a greater task to fulfill. On this day, this oh-so-hateful day, I needed to visit a certain someone's grave. Ayano Tateyama. Had it been three years already since she died?

I stretched, still not fully accustomed to the concept of _exercise_ and _jogging_. Two years of being a NEET and a shut-in did that to me, in the years of my life I wasted away doing nothing. Though that wasn't what bothered me, what bothered me was that I had to go back to school _with the rest of the Dan_. School hadn't changed; it was still as easy as before, but now my 'circle of friends' had grown to a troublesome size. My 'circle of friends who would attempt to shorten my life span' also grew in wealth, doubling in size.

Even though I had to return, no one else seemed to really care much about me, despite being the 18 year old once-NEET. Really, I had expected getting my life back on track would've been a lot more difficult. I had certainly expected as much back in my NEET phase.

In some of my rare contemplative moments, I would think back to my current situation. I would think of the years I was losing, the months gone to waste, and the time forever gone. Every time, I would never be motivated enough to change. Whether it be excuses or twisted thinking, I was definitely good at avoiding something.

Thoughts like "Reconnecting to society will be hard", or "I'm a high school drop-out, no one will accept me" weren't uncommon in those brief periods of inner turmoil. Yet, despite all my misgivings, there never was really anything much to say except that it was surprisingly easy. Either my outlook on 'difficult' had changed since awakening my eyes, or I was just completely dead wrong in those empty years.

Ayano Tateyama still haunted me, if that were the word to use. I would turn to my left and expect to see Ayano, smiling her fake smile she always did in school, but instead see Momo. Whispers of Ayano still trailed in my thoughts, nostalgia awakened by the sight of the school building, the scene of her death, the same old everything.

Still, I understood the mystery, or at least now I had. The unspoken 'why', the forgotten motive, the unanswered reason for her suicide, it became clear only after two years of being in the dark. My intelligence hadn't helped much there, eh? If only this world had been kind enough to let us meet in a realm without the haze, would we have become something more? I slapped myself, recognizing the pointless what-if question for what it was.

"Rest in peace." I murmured, depositing numerous paper cranes of my latest tests on the tombstone. Another 100%, another empty number that meant nothing. What good were tests for? What good was it to score perfect if that's all you scored? More pointless self-doubt. I opened down my wallet for good measure, scattering the few bills I owned on the ground, and a good wad of cash borrowed from Momo.

I plopped down in front of the tombstone, taking out a lighter, and setting fire to them both. It may not be a strictly Japanese tradition*, and even if she was trapped in the heat haze for all eternity, I still needed to send something, anything her way, if it would ever get there. The fire burned low, but grew strong, the heat almost unbearable to stand next to. In the hazy heat, my eyes began to water, dark fumes engulfing my upper-body as the wind changed directions.

"Ayano. I hope that, wherever you are, you can be happy." I choked out, the smoke clogging my vision.

Fat chance of that. The heat haze was a bland place, unmoving, uninteresting, dull and drab. I remembered it very clearly, or _my_ daze, anyhow. They were all different, like a luminescent rainbow. Everyone saw the same light and water illusion, but no one could describe it the same way. The heat haze was something like that, except only never a prosperous place. Ayano, the smiling Ayano, the laughing Ayano, the _happy _Ayano, that version of her could never exist in the lifeless eternal solitude.

Still, maybe, just maybe, Marry could crack the passage between worlds open. It was a long shot to push one's hopes on the fluffball, but it was all I had. Perhaps this was a good sign, a sign that I'd begun to hold hope in the universe once more, in the ill-fated stars' alignment. Trusting others was something I'd lost, forgotten, abandoned and left in the dust. That I was doing it again was… something else entirely.

Did this mean I was growing indifferent to Ayano's death? Her eternal exile to the realm of madness? No, I could never have intended it, but to be happy when Ayano could never, to be joyful when she was gone, to revel in the happiness she so loved without her ever being able to again. Was I mocking her to be doing this, to be living like this, to _enjoy_ life in all of its moderate splendor again?

No. That wasn't it. Ayano, the Ayano I knew, wouldn't want me to be depressed about her death. Ayano would be the type of person to try to cheer me up regardless. Ayano would've wanted me to be happy. To smile, to laugh, to cry, to shake off the emotionless husk I used to be. In that, I think I've succeeded.

"I guess I should say that… I've begun to change. You could say that I've smiled a lot more in the past year than I used to. You could say that I've laughed a lot more in the last year than I did before. You could say that I _enjoy_ myself more… but I still miss you." I told the tombstone, smoke still I feel something moist in my eye, a mixture of mucus salt water fats sugars and other fluids, the heterogeneous solution often referred to as 'tears'. They emerged like drops from a leaky faucet, running down the sides of my face for a short time before falling into the fire.

Was I crying? It didn't matter anyway; no one was here to watch me. I could shed as many tears as I desired, and it wouldn't make a difference. It was a sign I was alive. It was a signal to me and those around me that I gave a damn. That I was alive and kicking. Maybe I was set back a few years, maybe I might not be able to do everything I once could, but I had changed. In that at least, I could find some solace, that I was still able to, even in Ayano's absence.

"Shintaro?" A ghost called out, startling me. I stumbled forward, stepping onto the nearly burnt out fire, the searing hot pain rushing through my leg. It burned, it hurt, it was a scorching hot fire. I stopped, I dropped, and I rolled. A relieving cool splash flushed my leg, and I sat up heaving, getting a hazy glance at my benefactor. For a moment, the most brief of split-seconds, I would've sworn it was Ayano, but only for that moment. Reality sunk in, and Kido stood over me, her water bottle upended.

* * *

"And that's why my pants are burnt." Shintaro finished, waiting for the inevitable recoil he'd come to expect from telling any stories to the Dan. Nothing. Not even a single smidgeon of sound, only downcast glances and quivering faces. Only Konoha seemed undisturbed, casually munching down on a pie, completely unaware of the rest of the Dan's moment of dejection.

"For the record, it was the fumes that made me cry." Shintaro coughed uncomfortably, breaking the silence.

"Sure they were." Takane poked fun at him, but catching Konoha's eye, excused herself from the room.

*** A tradition in China, where you burn money/other possessions as an offering to the deceased in heaven. They would presumably receive these. I'm not entirely sure whether or not other countries in the area would have similar habits, although I presume it wouldn't be too out of place. **

**This is one of the fanfictions where I wish I could have edited it to make it better for the content. Ah well. Again, finished barely 8 minutes before the end of the day. I need to start working on these earlier.**


	5. Summer Haze

Summer Haze

A scorching hot summer haze, much like the one from the daze, returned a year after the eternal summer. With it came the uncomfortable recollection of the years spent on surviving that lone August 15th. Decades of memories even, year after year of day leading to desolate day, life had repeated. Shintaro remembered all of it, the deaths one after another, the murder, the gunshots, the brutal torturous beatdowns.

It was a nostalgic horror, a mind-numbing memory grab. The moment the dry breeze flew in, the moment Shintaro opened the door, he had to shut it. It was just too reminiscent. It was funny, that even a year after, a full three hundred and sixty-five days, the hazy heat still threw him off. With a sigh, Shintaro reluctantly nudged it open.

"You're just deluding yourself." Shintaro muttered to the drab air. The empty balcony said nothing in response. Shintaro leaned on the railing, staring down at the city below, going about their business nonchalantly, with no knowledge of the inner struggles Shintaro held within him.

"You're just being an idiot. Those years aren't worth remembering." Shintaro murmured to himself.

The only issue Shintaro had was that he _couldn't_ forget. Shintaro was cursed to remember everything he saw, everything he heard, everything he tasted and smelled, felt and sensed, everything and anything. It wasn't optional, not questionable, not negotiable. Shintaro had no choice in the matter, he simply could not forget any of the numerous years spent in the daze.

It was like a plague, a cancer; once it got you in its grip, you would never forget it again. The daze had that sort of effect on people, that once infected, you would always be remembered. The eye abilities certainly were a very good reminder of loss, when something so prominent in one's lives held such a significant origin.

'Course, most of the Dan was lucky enough to _not_ remember how exactly that happened, to not have the entire recollection of the other world. In the unmoving world of timeless silence, the lifeless dead space of consistent nightmares, Shintaro had spent countless hours. In practically every timeline, of his many hundreds of _perfectly recalled memories_, Shintaro had entered the daze time after time, usually with no success.

Still, the hot summertime shouldn't bring all of these to mind, to recollect them, group them, and ultimately catalog them by relevance. Shintaro supposed this was his own special little pet peeve, that his _perfect_ memory was at times, too strong. A perfect memory alone was troublesome, to be unable to forget a single detail. Yet Shintaro found himself constantly dismissing entire years of sensory immersions, brought up in his mental database.

Shintaro sighed, closing the door and slumping to the ground. Ah, the pains of being too intelligent. Or rather, should memory even be classified as a form of intelligence? It wasn't exactly indicative of intelligence or logical thinking skills, but was ever so useful _except_ when you needed to forget something.

August 15, a bright hazy summer day. What a joy. Shintaro only wished that his mind could stop cross-referencing this morn to the eternal summer of last year. It was such a pain when you couldn't control your own mind. At least school took no effort at least, when one's mind finishes all the problems lying on the flimsy piece of paper without prompt.

August 15, a bright hazy summer day. Also the day of Ayano's death, the date of her mother's death, and all of the Dan's fateful ruins. Shintaro realized that he hadn't even given a proper funeral rite at all to any of the many deceased individuals he was now affiliated with. Ayano as well, when was the last time Shintaro had dropped by the cemetary? When was the last time Shintaro had honoured Ayano, now knowing her true sacrifice? Might as well do it now if ever, on her death day.

"Momo!" Shintaro called out.

"Yeah?" Momo's voice echoed from somewhere in the apartment.

"Can I borrow some money?" At that, Momo made her appearance, sternly staring Shintaro down. It wasn't even as if Shintaro had done anything bad or anything, but anyone watching, if someone were to, would think he had.

"Is it for your porn mags? I'll have you know, I'm not going to be giving you any money for your sick fantasies. I found your stash awhile back and it's.." Momo grimaced, the recollection apparently so terrible that she couldn't even speak her mind. Shintaro reddened, face turning akin to that of an overripe cherry tomato.

"No! I just wanted to..."

"Yes, go on, I'll judge you." Momo accused him, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Why are you assuming I'm doing something inappropriate? I-I just wanted to pay tribute to Aya- Tateyama properly." Shintaro replied indignantly, voice tapering into a soft mumble within the two short sentences.

"Wait a moment." Momo said, leaving for a brief minute. Shintaro took the time to stand, grabbing his almost iconic red jersey.

"Here." Momo told him as she returned, tossing a wad of bills. Shintaro caught it unsteadily, and examined the contents. Did people really carry money this way anymore? Was this the kind of money a seventeen year old should handle so casually? It was a hefty sum of cash, after all. It was at least five times that of what he had in his meager savings.

"Thanks." Shintaro muttered, grabbing his shoes by the doorway. Shintaro stuffed the thick wad of bills in his pocket, with the _exact_ directions that Kido gave him still fresh on his mind, as they would always be.

"I still remember your smile..." Shintaro murmured under his breath as he sunk into another bout of thought, mindlessly moving towards his destination.

_Prompt - "How does weather affect your mood?"_

**I feel like I didn't really follow the prompt much. Oh well.**

**This one's a bit shorter than usual - I completely underestimated how well I could concentrate in a 'party' (not really one). I guess it's sort of sad to say that I just sat down in a corner on a computer tapping away.**


	6. Too Chicken for Pandas

Too Chicken for Panda

Hibiya seriously questioned his wardrobe choices sometimes. Of course, it's not as if Hibiya's usual wardrobe was the most nondescript at the best of times, but going through his closet, there were a few… _choice_ items that he'd become very aware of, like the _panda_ pajamas, or the maid costume. If anyone saw them, Hibiya seriously feared for his social life, not that he had much of one amongst people his age. Hibiya had had it hard enough to convince his parents in the first place to let him keep a pointlessly fluffy panda suit, let alone the _maid_ outfit.

The real question was what to do with the… _interesting_ articles of clothing Hibiya owned. He had only bought them because Momo had insisted, and her paying for every bit hadn't exactly helped either. Hibiya had never, not since the day it'd been purchased, worn either of the two. It was too embarrassing, too lewd, and just too _wrong_. Just wearing them reminded Hibiya of the old lady's smile, and that was something he wanted to stay away from. If Hibiya had ever learned anything from Shintaro Kisaragi, it was that the old lady smiling was a horrible thing.

Ignoring his mental warnings, the big red 'X' in his mind, Hibiya took out the panda pajamas. It really wasn't much of a pajama, to be honest, more of a sweater or _full body suit_, but by the gods about and beyond, Hibiya was never going to wear this in public or reveal its existence to anyone. Hibiya fancied himself a 'cool' teen, as learned in modern culture as he was. Yet, despite all the red flags that the suit gave off, Hibiya waved them away, knowing that in the Dan, at least half of the members would care about his privacy. That 50% guarantee was good enough for him.

Perhaps it was a bad thing to trust in the rest of the Dan, because in the short half year Hibiya had lived with them, they always managed to change his perception of things. Breakfast? Gotta set things on fire! Casually going to an orientation in the big city? Need to be chaperoned by one of the most conspicuous figures in J-pop! It would've been pointless to say this to anyone, but Hibiya had to go through some really troublesome things because of that grandlady.

At least Hibiya didn't have to pay for the rent, which was great when living in a huge city like Mekaku. Nor did he need to work for food, as that was graciously provided by Seto and Konoha, both of which worked the days away. At times Hibiya almost felt bad for leeching off the Dan just to go to a school in the big city. Then one of his classmates would leap into his path, demanding for a signed piece of undies from the ol' hag. Did they not understand that Hibiya's relationship with the famed Momo Kisaragi wasn't an excuse for signed underwear?

Hibiya grumbled under his breath. How did he put the panda suit on again? A zipper seemed the most likely option, although the grandlady had helped Hibiya into it the last time he'd worn it, way way back. The white fabric might even be a little tight on Hibiya, since he'd grown a _whole_ five centimeters since then. 'Course, it had been pretty loose, from Hibiya's imperfect memory of the old scene.

There. Hibiya located the correct zipper, because god knew how many there were on the thing, and paused, uncertain. Was Hibiya really about to put on… a panda suit? Was that what he had been reduced to? A young teen who spends his free time dressing up and frolicking in the fields of flowers as a maiden panda?

Noting that minute risk, Hibiya plunged his limbs deep into the soft fabric, which somehow retained its texture after years of being packed away. It was better to find out now if Hibiya was going to eventually become a menace to society. Oh but what he grew attached to the panda suit and Hibiya ended up wearing it everyday? It would be a true tragedy.

The suit came on easier than expected, and that may have just killed a bit of Hibiya's pride in the process. The ease at which Hibiya put on the suit just meant that he hadn't grown much, if at all. Those five centimeters that Hibiya had been so proud of, they had barely changed anything. Hibiya wasn't even taller than Marry, and Marry hadn't grown whatsoever since they first met.

Or maybe Hibiya was overthinking things. Surely, surely the panda suit had no ulterior motives hidden behind it. After all, it was just a costume that the ol' hag picked out while trying to cheer him up. Hibiya didn't need to think about all the subtext, the lines between the lines of the fineprint's back hidden in the fineprint on the envelope's stamp's insignia. That was Shintaro's job, the resident 'Genius'.

Hibiya stared at his reflection in the mirror, pulling himself to his full 145cm. It wasn't much, nor was it very intimidating, an effect magnified by the well… panda themed attachments on the full body suit. Did Hibiya look innocent? Cute maybe? Being so short was another thing, but the panda pj's just made Hibiya think twice about his self-assured 'cool teen' image. Even to himself, Hibiya looked like a child, an _elementary school student_ or something.

Maybe… maybe it wasn't that bad, to change into something different, something new. Perhaps doing something bold, even in the closed confines of one's own room, would be good for the soul. Hibiya took a few deep breaths, examining himself from head to toe. He didn't look half bad.

Then, on spur of the moment, Hibiya posed; doing the fancy vogues he would see from time to time in the fashion magazines the grandlady was 'forced' to take home. The grandlady never bothered to read them, but instead claimed that her manager wanted her to 'reconsider her public image' or something of that sort. Of course, Hibiya, not wanting to waste perfectly good material, adopted the magazines into his room, for ah, _personal _use.

"Work it." Hibiya grunted at himself, strutting back and forth in front of the mirror. It was very very odd, to see himself in this outfit making these shapes with his body. Hibiya wasn't quite sure why, but it was strangely addicting. Hibiya found himself laughing at the poses, the faces, the images he could present with his body that Hibiya had never bothered to try to create before.

Then Hibiya felt an animalistic impulse, the instinct, the drive. Hibiya knew something bad was about to happen, he felt it in his (now) very fashionable soul. A bad omen, an ill tiding. Something, somewhere, someone, whatever was about to happen, it was going to go horribly. That was what Hibiya felt just before he heard the door click.

"Hibiya, Mo-" The familiar voice of Shintaro began, never finishing his statement. Hibiya swiveled his head in horror, staring head on at the former NEET's fascinating facial expression. A moment of silence passed, neither side moving.

"I'm sorry, I'll come back later." Shintaro finally said, breaking the silence.

"Ah, wait!" Hibiya called out, shattered out of his reverie. Still, it was too late, and Shintaro had already closed the door.

_PROMPT: Write about something you got for free._

**This one's a little meh. I don't think Hibiya would ever want to wear any of those... outfits ever again, but who knows. A lot of people do out of character actions behind closed doors. **

**This one was probably even more rushed than the others (if that's possible) maybe taking me roughly thirty minutes of work? Haha... what is editing...**


	7. The Hikki & The NEET

The Hikki &amp; The NEET

(Oregairu &amp; Kagepro crossover)

On an off day, one would think that the NEET who was getting his education again would be busy, rather than idly walking about outdoors. Studying maybe, hanging out with friends, or even Shintaro's personal preference: camping out in one's room and abusing the internet. So why of all things, was he outside?

The answer was considerably less interesting than any mystery the mind could come up with. In truth, Shintaro had realized just how intimidating a little sister could be, especially when you actually _see_ her more than three or four times a day. Having (mostly) given up his NEET lifestyle, Shintaro actually had to _communicate_ with people, and _talk_ to people in real life.

A shame, he knew, but society was just like that. Had Shintaro stayed cooped up in his room, surely one day Momo would give up on supporting him, and his completely necessary tech upgrades. How did his little sister, related as they were, not understand that buying an entirely new set-up every year was mandatory for the best performance possible? Getting an extra MB of RAM was like getting a good luck charm before you go on stage; it just made you all that much better.

_Sure_, Shintaro knew it was expensive getting all the fancy high tech details, but his sister _could_ have been more supportive of his NEET lifestyle. It wasn't as if she didn't have the money anyhow, as by some strange mystery, Momo seemed to have enough saved up for their home, the Dan's apartment, and Shintaro's comfort expenses.

Sighing like a restless slave, Shintaro forced himself down, onto a bench in the middle of the public park. At least it wasn't too noisy here. He could hear the whispers of the wind, gently rattling the leaves on their branches. Shintaro could hear the rhythmic beats of squirrels chattering, and amongst the miniscule voices of other insects and the like, Shintaro mindlessly identified each one by its distinctive call and pitch.

A male beetle, hoping to find a mate. A swarm of ants, each mindlessly communicating with each other like an emotionless network, going for the most efficient job possible. The call of a passerine bird, probably a pipit, as it feeds its children. The bark of a dachshund, running rampant. Wait, what? A dachshund, a family pet, a family was coming this way? So much for the peace and quiet of a public park. Oh wait, that never existed. Right.

Shintaro watched as a dumb looking sausage of a dog – sorry, a dachshund – bounded up to him. The sausage gave him a quick sniff, as if in greeting, then zipped off to wherever dumb saus- dachshunds go. In this case, it was to its owner, presumably a teen with slightly bold clothing whose hair made Shintaro do a double-take. Pink hair? Granted, Shintaro was very familiar with fancy hair colouring, but pink? Of all the conspicuous colours to choose from, Pink was pretty out there. Or rather, was it a much lighter shade of Momo's orange with some more red splotched in?

"Sable!" The teenager called out, catching the sausage and lifting it into her arms. The more Shintaro stared at her, the more he was reminded of Momo. Her… it occurred to Shintaro that he shouldn't be thinking these things about _underage_ high schoolers. Anyhow, that curiosity had grasped his attention long enough. Shintaro had better things to do, like to sit and stare at the grass grow.

"Yuigahama-san, please do not run off without giving us notice." Another girl, looking to be about the same age, entered through the forested pathway. This one was much more conservative than the other, clothing not emphasizing the… bust as much. Still, the second teenager, as Shintaro assumed them both to be by their mannerisms, was a beauty in her own right. They both were, but again Shintaro decided that he shouldn't spend too much time on the thought. It was simply a waste.

"Sorry!" The first girl exclaimed, clapping her hands and doing a light bow in apology. Shesh, that was going a little far. Shintaro groaned, wondering when they'd leave and let him keep his peace. He surely wasn't going to get up and move; that would require the effort of standing up.

"Hikigaya-kun, please at least try to keep pace." The second girl reprimanded someone, the third person to come out from the path. Gosh, Shintaro really didn't have much luck today. It was a boy this time, looking like some bird had rested on his neck so long that the boy was left with a permanent slouch. Maybe it pecked at his eyes while it was at it, because the boy glared at everything. Or was that his actual face?

"Where did Komachi-chan go?" The second girl asked. Oh boy, this bird-boy had had a third girl with him? Judging from his standards, that was something. Shintaro really didn't want to listen any longer. As someone who… was unfortunate enough for the target of his affections to _disappear_ into an unmoving stale world, Shintaro supposed he was being a little jealous. Just a little.

"She said she had to go again. The concert's going to start soon, why did she go?" The boy grumbled. Really, how exactly had this boy gone about seducing three different females? It was a wonder. Shintaro put his mind to work, but couldn't come up with a thing. Another mystery, another enigma to puzzle over. Or Shintaro could just stop caring about the three, and leave them to the fate of their harem.

"I guess we'll look for her. Yuigahama-san, you look there, I'll head that direction. Hikigaya-kun, please stay here and see if she comes." The second girl commanded, before striding off to follow her own instructions.

"Yeah yeah." The boy waved dismissively.

"Go die lifer." Shintaro muttered under his breath.

* * *

Hachiman hadn't wanted to go to Mekaku, given the recent splash of 'accidents' in the area, but Komachi insisted, saying something about how she wanted to visit one of the famous Momo Kisaragi's concerts with Yuigahama and Yukinoshita. Somehow or another, Hachiman found himself being pulled along to his sister's whims, and she got everything she wanted.

Except now, Komachi was gone. She 'disappeared' once more just before the concert she oh-so-desperately wanted to attend, saying something about a project _that she should have known about beforehand_. Still, they had already bought the tickets, so it would be a waste to not go. Hachiman supposed that it was at least good that he didn't have to search for his sister. All he had to do was stand still in one spot.

Hachiman's loner senses were tingling. A loner, being a lonely existence at heart, needed to develop a very special skill set, to detect any potential bad blood directed their way. Whether the skill was created by the repetitive special event of lots of ill thoughts or fear of the grouped lifers, a loner always had to smarten themselves quickly or suffer for it. An amazing technique that was one of the 108 loner skills he'd crafted and mastered from scratch.

In this instance, Hachiman felt the malicious intent coming from behind him. He glanced to the side, glimpsing from the corner of his eye a frowning teenager, comfortably resting on a bench. How dull. This jersey-wearing teen, frail and weak, posed no threat, or so the Hachiman's loner-evaluation skills told him.

After all, a loner needed to know when Tachiko from eighth grade was coming to threaten him, or Sachiko from seventh grade in the class over was about to come to taunt him. That being said, Hachiman's loner instincts told him nothing about this sad looking teen. Ahh, a loner was a truly wonderful existence, to be so well versed in the arts.

No word from Yukinoshita or Yuigahama, or so Hachiman's phone told him. Would they text him when they found his notorius little sister? Should he have explained that by 'go again' that he didn't mean to the bathroom, but to ditch the scenarios that she set up herself? Hachiman thought about it for a second, then dismissed it. For Yukinoshita, as the number one in Japanese, surely she would've grasped the hidden meaning behind the words. Actually, because it was Yukinoshita… it might become troublesome.

Ten minutes passed without a word, and Hachiman seriously considered sitting down next to the ill-meaning teen on the bench. The scowling teen hadn't moved an inch since Hachiman first saw him, which as every loner knew, that the teen was having an intense existential crisis.

Hachiman almost felt like commending the teen, for going through one of the later stages to the loner's Nirvana. Hachiman of course, with his mastery of the 108 loner skills, had long since surpassed that realm of lonerhood, but it was always nostalgic to see a fellow loner at that stage.

Then, in a shock like that of the electric fence Hachiman had been tricked into touching in third grade on the field trip, his pupil faded from his eyes. Another teen, female with fancy looking clothes on, stormed into the small clearing, possessively grabbing at the scowling teen, turning his scowl into a look of pure surprise.

A girlfriend, whose face was so dolled up in nearly unnoticeable make-up that Hachiman could swear he'd seen her before. Hachiman's _former_ pupil had been waiting for his girlfriend, not contemplating the reason for life in relation to a loner's role in society and cross-referencing that in an essay that he'd later have to redo because 'it was too off-topic'. The girlfriend whispered a few words that even Hachiman's amazing observation abilities couldn't pick up, and dragged the bench boy away, jersey flapping.

"Go die lifer." Hachiman whispered, cursing his _former_ pupil.

It would only be much later, at Momo Kisaragi's concert with Yukinoshita and Yuigahama that Hachiman would remember where he saw that face before.

**So, in light of Oregairu season two starting, I felt like doing a cross between their two titular characters: the HikkiNEET and Hikki (Hikigaya). **

**I probably fracked up characterization again, but hopefully it wasn't too noticable. Haha... *cries***


	8. To Dream a Dream of Dreaming Dreams

**QUICK DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER IS TRASH AND I SHOULD FEEL LIKE TRASH.  
Some innuendos, it's barely even a story, and it's literally Shintaro monologue-ing while talking to people. I don't know why I thought this was a good idea for five minutes, but after those five minutes I was too lazy to delete everything and kept going. Language might be a bit off-putting, if you don't like certain references and/or innuendos. Ah well, too late now.**

To Dream a Dream of Dreaming Dreams in Dreams

I had to get rid of my bed because of the awful, tragic memories associated with it. No, the memories weren't Momo walking in on me doing anything. No, Kano, shut your mouth. This was serious business. Like, door-to-door cookie selling serious.

Anyhow, having the amazing memory I do, I couldn't bear to sleep in the same bed I used to dream about my waifu in. No Takane, don't finish my sentences for me. I don't care how long you watched me sleep, just go back to your candy mashing game. Oh right, I beat you in that too. And in every single other game in existence you've challenged me in.

_Continuing on,_ I had to get rid of it because of my brain. Yes, I did just say that my brain was stopping me from doing something. Got a problem? Yes? Well, shut it. My memory, being perfect, yes I did just describe an aspect of myself as perfect, but only in the sense that I could not forget anything, regardless of whether or not I consider that ability perfect, could not forget anything, like I just said. This meant that, no Takane, it didn't mean I could remember everything I've gotten off on and been able to do it again, get your mind out of my pants. Though I could… I should stop listening to you now.

Still, because of how I could never forget anything, whenever I sat on my bed, I recalled the many times that _I did NOT masturbate Takane, _see what you did; now Seto's covering Marry's ears. That's physically and mentally demanding on both ends. Again, whenever I sat on my bed I remembered- Kano, do you know how hard it is to finish the explanation you made me explain when you keep interrupting?

As I was saying, at night I would always- shut your trap, really, it's getting tiring reminding you. What, now you're hungry? This wouldn't have taken so long if you didn't keep interrupting. Guess what? I just locked the door remotely and- dammit Takane, why did you unlock it? I don't even know why you all made me sit here and tell my- are you listening or not? I guess I should just give up, see Kido is giving me a great example to follow: to stop caring. I'm out.

I can't go? _I_ can't go in my own home? Well, I'm _sorry_ if by some remote miracle, I don't answer to your every whim and wish. I'm _sorry_ if I don't amuse you, or if I cannot follow your twisted thinking. But hey, get me some soda would you? Momo took away my stash yesterday, saying it was 'unhealthy' or something.

Dammit Enomoto, don't get sassy with me. Even if Momo pays for the apartment, she does it under my name as to not arouse suspicion. Got it? I contribute _my whole name_ towards keeping this place afloat. That's a pretty big contribution, don't you think? No? Well screw off. Get me some soda while you're at it though, since I'm apparently not allowed to leave this room.

_Thank you_ Seto, at least someone here cares about respecting the legal owner of the house. No, I don't think Marry needs to leave, assuming Takane and Kano over there keep things PG-13. I mean, are their hormones so worked up just by being here that they need to vent their inner passions on me? I know I'm a pretty impressionable person but- okay, I'll stop talking about that.

Look, just don't interrupt me- very funny, I'm sure we're all laughing. For your sanity and mine, let's not make this take longer than it needs to. I'm sure you all have places you want to be and that none of you want to hear me talk for longer than necessary. So if you could just listen, that'd be great.

Like I started to say a good what, five minutes ago, because of the snakes, my memory is nigh unstoppable. I can remember anything and everything, but because of that, there are a million ways to trigger a memory, or to bring one up. A particularly nasty one that was associated with my bed- no Takane, there are _children_ older than us in this room, stop.

Anyhow, apparently, in the other timelines that I'm sure you all were unaware of, I committed suicide on that very bed, stabbing myself through the neck with a pair of scissors, a grand total of six thousand, eight hundred and twenty three times. See? Not so funny now, is it?

Since I have the ability to remember each and every single moment of every death, every suicide, it was rather… distracting to recall my dying moments of timelines long since gone by when I needed to sleep.

What? Can _you_ sleep when recollections of bloody stab wounds come to mind whenever you pull up the covers? Do you see the bloodstained cloths, hear the sickening squelch of a dull scissor blade cutting through human flesh and tearing through weak muscle? No?

Well now you know why I got Momo to replace my bed. I've no idea what she did with it, but through the magic of her calling someone, it disappeared practically by the time school finished. Momo bought a new one, and voila, new bed that doesn't carry the memories of death and suicidal tendancies. We done here?

…

…

What do you mean, you want to know about 'pale white stains'?

Get out.

Now.

_PROMPT: If you had a choice, what would you dream about tonight?_


	9. What Does a Sibling Mean?

What Does a Sibling Mean?

What does a sibling mean to you?

The question made Kido stop to think. What did her siblings mean to her? They were the world, and yet at the same time, they would always harass her. Or rather, Kano would, and make up for Seto's lack of doing so. Still, they were Kido's foster siblings, though close as regular siblings for sure, and in the days of high school, they were together practically all the time. Being in the same classes helped.

Kido knew that she valued her siblings, and they her, but what were they to her? What meaning did they give her, what chord in her mind did they strike? Kido glanced up at the ceiling, present but absent at the same time.

Seto, her youngest brother, was a sweet caring little thing. Or, that was how Kido used to think of him, as a child despite being the same age, as someone to be mindful of and take care of. Seto's old outbursts of tears, the pouting glances, and just the ease at which he gave in really cemented that image. But now, Seto was no longer that small child, afraid of the voices above and beyond.

Seto was nice. He got along with animals as if they sensed how harmless Seto was to them, and could do no ill deed. At least, Kido had never seen him do anything of that sort in the long decade they'd lived together. Seto got along like a charm with practically everyone he met, whether older, younger, or of the same age. Seto put up with Marry's… admittedly more irritating qualities, and managed to keep in touch with everyone in the Dan, like a glue that sticks

Seto was also rather brave, and a hard worker too. Taking on two part time jobs wasn't exactly an impossible feat, but for a high school student, it was something. Kido kept one naturally, to help out with the bills, but two would be killer to go along with studying. Or maybe Kido could study at the job? Still, simply delving deep into the adult world at the slim age of fifteen, Kido was surprised Seto's grades were as high as they were.

A hard worker, a sweet younger brother, and a genuinely nice person to be around? Was that what Seto was to Kido? Kido supposed that summed Seto up well enough.

Kano was another story. His 'acting' skills were certainly a pain tied to the back of Kido's mind, and whenever Kido thought he was finished, Kano had another surprise coming. Her brother was full of mysteries really. It was never possible to tell when he wasn't using his eye power either, since he could use it and make an illusion of himself with his natural eye colour. So where did that put Kano in her mind?

Kano was certainly a piece of work, with a natural and unnatural gift for deceit. Kido was never 100% sure where his mind was in most scenarios, Body language was almost unusable as a guideline, and the words coming out of his mouth were maybe even less trustworthy. The only person who could fully divine Kano's brain would be Seto, and Seto would never violate his brother's privacy on purpose. Still, for all the lies and fake smiles Kano gave in spades, he always had the rest of the Dan at heart. Morally, Kano was in the right place.

Kano may have also been a downright pain to deal with on most days, but the blonde always did all his stunts in the name of _fun_. Even then, Kano always seemed to understand the scenario at hand, and know what to do about it, which clashed with his idiotic persona. He did fairly well in social outings, flaunting his mask of lies openly. Kano even had a dedicated female following at school, not that it bothered her or anything, but Kido would never condone the yandere-esque glares they would send her way. Kido just didn't get what they saw in him, although she would admit that Kano was fairly lean and muscular.

A (mostly) tolerable prankster who enjoyed causing a light ruckus. Playful but mature behind his mask of deception, understanding yet showing light-heartedness. Kano was probably the hardest person to understand that Kido knew, simply because of the uncertainty she faced over how genuine Kano's actions were. Was that what Kano was to her? Kido wasn't sure, because some part of her didn't accept that definition, no matter how silly it seemed. Still, it wasn't anything to trouble one's self over, so Kido ignored it.

Finally, Kido's last foster sibling, Ayano. Ayano was an angel, a role-model, and a hero all steamrolled into a responsible older sibling. That's why the family was hit so hard when she 'committed suicide', when Ayano, the cheerful sister, the helpful school failure, the bubbly playmate, that's why the family lost so much at her death. Kido had, on several occasions, blamed Ayano, her sister, for her suicide, but even that small sin, even that was Ayano being the kindhearted person she was.

First and foremost, Kido remembered Ayano as the benevolent angel in the household. A stark contrast to Kano's teasing; Ayano would always break up any fight, and free the tension from a room. Many a time had Ayano stoppered Seto's tears, and thought up of wonderfully nostalgic games. It would bring a smile to her face just thinking about it. Kido remembered Kano, even as young as six, fantasizing about marrying his foster sister to be with her forever. Maybe that was why he always teased Seto, to get her attention.

Still, as much as Kido dreamed of Ayano, as much as she thought of her older sister as a perfection, an ideal entity, she knew that her sister wasn't one. Ayano had failed to inform them about the haze, the mind-shattering other world. Ayano had failed to keep her promise, that she'd always be there, that she'd always turn their frowns upside-down. Kido smiled grimly at that thought. Her older sister had always reminded her to smile more, to _openly_ show happiness, rather than to hold it in.

Ayano, her older sister, the near-perfect idolized being on Kido's youth, the caretaker, the fightbreaker and pleasantry-maker, Ayano was everything and everyone Kido had once wanted to be. Maybe not the smartest girl, but Ayano was great with practically everything else. That was who Ayano was, and even after death, when the Dan (at large) discovered the _reason_ for her suicide, even then did she never cease to amaze.

In Kido's more grim moments, she would wonder how different life would've been had they all met in a world without the haze. If only they could all have gathered in another world, a more peaceful one, a better one. Then, Ayano would've still been with them, and they would all be a happy quartet happily ever after. It was a dumb wish, a stupid one that could never come true, but still. How different would their worlds have been, how much nicer would their realities have been, if only the haze had not existed?

* * *

"Danchou, focus on your test." Kano whispered into Kido's ear, startling her out of her reverie. Kido turned to see the blonde was leisurely leaning back on his chair, stretching. Using his eye-powers to not get caught cheating was something Kido really had to hammer in, especially with Shintaro, the boy genius, sitting beside him. It was always suspicious when Kano would ace every test but mess up his equations in practice.

"I could say the same to you." Kido hissed back, the blonde laughing. Of course, no one else could see Kano's actual body position. Kido assumed he was standing next to her, but for all she knew, Kano could've been standing on his desk.

"Psst, danchou." Kano murmured.

"What?"

"You got question thirty-five wrong. You simplified the fraction incorrectly." Kano pointed out.

"Shut it."

_PROMPT: What does having siblings mean to you?_

**Well, I tried? I just realized I've never attempted anything here from a perspective other than Kido or Shintaro, aside from that one little snippet about Hibiya. Hmm. Then again, only eight days have passed, so I guess it's fine. **

**On that note, god, I'm running out of ideas already. Subject prompts are great.**


	10. Reminder of Days Long Gone

**In which Takane never gets her old body back or reveals her secret, and is left with constant reminders with no one to vent to. Meh.**

Reminder of Days Long Gone

At times, Ene felt terribly lonely. Ayano was gone forever, Shintaro, although Ene spent her days with him, was a boring NEET, and Haruka, that annoying idiot, had… become something else entirely. It wasn't as if Shintaro knew who Ene had once been either, so even in the aftermath of the endless summer, it was at times terribly frustrating to keep up her persona.

Ene knew she should've told Shintaro who she was. It was a bad idea to keep the person she associated with practically everyday in the dark, and Ene knew that eventually, one day Shintaro would find out, as he did for everything. Even so, Ene didn't really care when Shintaro would uncover that secret, since it wasn't as if he could do anything to her.

'Course, it was always possible that Shintaro already knew, was already aware, but simply never bothered to tell her. After all, Ene had revealed a rudimentary knowledge of Shintaro's past gaming habits, as well as sharing an almost identical hairstyle to her… old self. Besides, in the years of memories Shintaro had locked up in his head of the heat haze day, there was bound to be at least one timeline where she'd revealed herself.

Still, Shintaro wasn't the biggest problem Ene had. At least he was still similar to his original state, even if he'd grown much more pathetic. Konoha was a much, much bigger issue.

Konoha was identical to Haruka's old video game character. For a shooter based in the past, the character designs were oddly modern. That constant memory, the living proof of their old relationship, if you could call it one was someone that Ene had to see every single day. As much as she tried to, Ene couldn't stop _hating_ the cyber-boy, if Konoha could even be considered human.

Konoha had super strength, and was basically immune to events fatal to most _regular_ people. Super speed too, and who knows what else the pale boy had in common with an archetypal video game lead. Konoha was even as _mindless_ as a video game character, simply living the agenda of those around him, barely clinging to any sense of agency, which of course, was limited to Haruka's last wish of wanting to be with friends.

Ene knew that, in her transformation, she couldn't possibly have married, let alone dated Haruka, had Haruka remained true to himself. Even so, to watch a foreign entity prance around in Haruka's body, even if that was Haruka, just wasn't something Ene could stomach.

Despite the tears Konoha had shed, ignoring the wishes he so desired, Ene's every glance would make her shiver inside. She'd once heard that in video games, there was a rather fine line between humans who closely resembled and acted like humans, and those that were noticeably off, to the point at which it just became downright creepy. How human they seemed, how right they looked, but at the same time, strangely eerie. Like a zombie, a robot, a mechanical replica. They look like humans, but aren't.

Konoha was like that. To Ene, he resembled Haruka, her old crush though she'd never admitted it, but something was off. Konoha wasn't Haruka, their minds were fundamentally different. Konoha, in body, aside from the abnormal colouring, shared the exact same proportions as Haruka. Ene had yet to measure Konoha, but she wouldn't be surprised if the measurements matched.

Even so, even though they were both part of the Dan, Ene could barely cover up her disgust. Konoha was just wrong in every way, just looking at him disturbed her. Regrets piled up on her everytime she looked his way, the thoughts of days long since past.

Haruka was much better before than now. Granted, Konoha was practically impervious to disease, but Haruka had had… a magic to him. Something about that boy, that annoyingly frustratingly ignorant boy, had attracted her. Not as Ene, but as her old self. _As Takane Enomoto_.

Haruka wasn't perfect, but Takane didn't care for perfection. Nothing was, and Haruka was close enough. Even if he had a life threatening disease, even if Haruka was absent sizable chunks of the year, Takane found herself gravitating towards the tall sickly boy.

Takane wondered what it was about him that she liked oh-so-much. Ayano would, on occasion, try to get her to talk about… 'love' and such, but Takane would never take up her offer to do so. As much as Takane enjoyed teasing her kouhai, she was another story. To Ayano and Shintaro, it had been fun prodding them on both sides, like a game, though neither side would admit anything. On the other hand, Takane took her own relationships seriously.

She supposed that might've just been a lack of empathy for Ayano, but Takane could never bring herself to approach that forbidden topic, that elusive word, _love_.

Could that attraction have been Haruka's personality? That kind smile, the carefree nonchalant attitude, those amazing drawings, what was it? Takane wondered if her attraction was limited to the mental realm. Ignoring her many insults and put-downs that Takane didn't mean, she quite liked his face, his wide eyes, his large yet slim frame. There were a lot of things Takane liked about Haruka, but had he ever thought the same way about her?

Takane wondered what Haruka would think when he looked at her. Irritating classmate? Friend? Only ally in that lonely special needs classroom? Maybe even a crush? There were a million possibilities, answers, results to the elusive enigma, but Takane would never know. If Konoha hadn't appeared in place of Haruka, if Haruka had never been reborn as the albino-esque amnesiac, then what could have become of them?

Right. Nothing. Takane would've been _Ene_, the bubbly little cyber troll, who poked and prodded Shintaro all the while avoiding the past. But what if, what could have happened had they not met under such… _negative_ circumstances? If Haruka hadn't had such a violent illness, or even if they hadn't met in that quaint little special needs classroom, would they still have ended in such tragedy? Oh, right. There was no 'they', no 'we', no 'us'. Takane Enomoto and Haruka Kokonose, no matter how close, were never an item of that fashion.

And that was why Ene hated Konoha. She hated him for a lot of reasons, but in the end, to her, Konoha represented the realm of possibilities. He was the stars, the far away glimpses at worlds unreachable. Konoha was Haruka, but only in body, he was a pale bright shadow of the person Ene had once taken a liking to. In that, she couldn't forgive him, no matter how childish it seemed.

Ene wondered if Shintaro felt the same way, if the NEET thought of the quiet pale boy in the same light. Perhaps as a reminder of days long since passed, the times when Ayano lived, those happy days of innocence and longing. As Ene, she knew that Shintaro was rather… deeply affected by Ayano's loss, but did he see in Konoha the same scapegoat she did?

The quiet curiosity was a small one, but grew the more Ene saw them, which was practically everyday. Shintaro got along just fine with Konoha, even going _out of his way_ to interact with the pale husk of Haruka, something that boggled Ene even more than the game.

Ene wanted to know, no, now she needed to know. That quiet little question had grown into a craving, a mental curio. How had Shintaro learned to cope with the loss of old his friends and his loved one? Did those two years serve as a way to forget, or by finally discovering the reason behind Ayano's suicide, had he come to terms with her death?

Shintaro and her were more similar than Ene wanted to admit. Both of them had lost their favoured one on the same day, and vanished themselves, Shintaro as a social recluse and Ene as Ene. So how did he cope? Was Shintaro merely accepting his fate as a given, a granted, a decision of fate?

It took a full week before Ene finally broke that wall, that mental inhibition. It took a full seven days of contemplation before Ene resolved to cave in.

"Hey Master! I have something to say." She called out, pressing her face to the screen to block Shintaro's access to the internet.

"What? Spill it already." Shintaro muttered, trying to free the mouse from Ene's grasp.

"I'm…"

_PROMPT: Write about somebody you used to love._


	11. Indication of Days to Come

**This one's more of a companion to the previous one-shot than a direct follow-up, but eh, close enough.  
In which Konoha does not understand shiny blue girls.**

Indication of Days to Come

Konoha wondered at times, how much he didn't know.

Everyone told him he had _amnesia_, meaning that by default, Konoha's mind was pretty blank, like a slate. He wasn't great with manners, or the casual functions of society. It wouldn't be a very hard throw to say that Konoha was almost comparable to a child in how experienced he was with the world. Yet Konoha knew none of this.

To Konoha, the world was new, marvelous, and full of delights. Every single action he performed seemed to elicit a variety of responses, and they always seemed to be a little different!

Everyone he met seemed to have a different way of interacting with him, and Shintaro had said there were a grand total of seven billion people in the world, and growing. Konoha wasn't sure he could count that high, but he knew for sure that he couldn't be bored with that many people to meet.

Whether it be "Boy, you have to pay for that.", or "Konoha, please, just please put on some pants.", Konoha was enjoying himself.

His days were always eventful, almost too eventful. He would wonder at times, if this would change eventually, because to Konoha, life was almost too good to be true.

And then, at the end of what his friends referred to as 'Summer Break', it did. No longer did they play, for no longer did they stay together.

Everyone had to go to that abomination called _school_. That dreadful thing that took away Konoha's friends, made them _busy_ all the time, and took away Kido's cooking.

In Kido's absence, Konoha had to settle for convenience store goods. _Convenience store_. He even had to give them shiny metal coins for his food!

Ignoring that struggle, Konoha had uncovered a new mystery, much like the mystery of why people valued little strips of green.

Ene, one of the few characters Konoha was associated with, didn't seem to like him much.

It was a very astute observation, and Konoha was proud of the fact that it had only taken him two months to ascertain this.

The blue girl, who flitted from screen to screen, was one of the three people who didn't go to this 'school' trap. Along with Marry, the three spent their days camped out in the secret base, minding their own business.

Marry made flowers all day, so she wouldn't play with Konoha. Thus, within the first two days after the 'school' started up again, Konoha had no food left, and no people to entertain himself with.

That is, except for the cyber girl. Shintaro called her 'Ene', but Konoha had never gotten the opportunity to speak to her. He wondered why.

"Ene!"

The cyber girl disappeared, floating off to another screen, somewhere else in the wide world of yet-to-turn-blue screens.

"Blue girl!"

Konoha called out, having forgotten the name he had written down on his hand in permanent marker. The day before, Konoha had been determined to talk to the mysterious blue girl in the wake of Marry's rejections.

"Blue girl, are you there?"

Konoha caught a glimpse of her on a laptop before she evaded him again. That's when it hit Konoha, like the truck that had warped his two short friends out of existence and returned one.

They.

Were.

Playing.

Tag.

The yellow-haired boy had taught Konoha this fascinating game, this game of 'tag'. It was complex, yet Konoha managed to retain all memory of the event. The red-shirted one had squealed a lot when Konoha had lifted him up in tagging, but the yellow-haired one gave Konoha food, so it all went well.

Now understanding the evasive measures that the blue girl undertook, Konoha dashed through the secret base, whirling his way around the screens that dominated the rooms.

"Blue girl!"

Konoha called out once more, alerting his prey as he stalked it. Konoha was akin to a hunter, hunting his sport as he pounced through the halls.

A leap and a bound, Konoha had reached the next screen, catching a fleeting glimpse of his target, the fleeting blue flash vanishing just as he got there.

That split second glimpse was enough motivation for Konoha to keep tracking his quarry. He knew that eventually, he would catch up to the fleeing girl.

And so he ran for hours, like the wind, flying after the blue girl, who had elusively managed to escape him so far. Konoha was a persistent and ruthless bloodhound, following the girl to the ends of the secret base and back.

Konoha's efforts would be rewarded by a glimpse every once in awhile of the girl, whose broken feet carried her far, maybe faster than his did. It was weird, for broken feet to work just as well as a regular foot.

Then it stopped. Literally. Konoha was confused at first, because either he'd gotten slower, or the girl had become much much faster. As the hours passed, Konoha had caught up to the blue girl considerably, going from barely able to see her to almost prodding her in the screen at one point. He was sprinting faster than he ever had before, yet she wasn't there.

Suspecting foul play, Konoha ripped every screen from its chained position, and gathered them in one place, where he could collectively stare at the mass of black shining objects. They reminded him of the fireworks that he had held once, sparkly and shooting off little specs of warm somethings.

Marry screamed. Konoha stared. The blue girl was nowhere to be found.

Oddly enough, although the gathered screens had set the ground alight, which the wild Marry was heaving liquids at, none of the screens possessed their inner light, the one that usually enchanted them.

Konoha felt a trace of sadness, having lost his target, his prey, and for the perfectly good carpet that was giving off a nasty smell. In his melancholy, Konoha slumped down onto the ground, watching the battle between Marry and the screens.

Konoha wondered where the blue girl had gone. With the best of his mental capabilities, Konoha had made the assumption that the blue girl, or Ene as his right hand told him, lived in the screens.

Did that mean that Ene was homeless now? Would she come out of the screens and stop being shy and live with them? Strange thoughts. Konoha supposed he'd have to ask the girl with green hair, since she always gave him food.

The lightshow died down, and Marry collapsed onto the couch, exhausted from the encounter. Konoha however, stared at the blackened remains of the screens, waiting for the blue girl to make her reappearance, or maybe even emerge from the ashes.

It was in this manner that the rest of Konoha's friends, back from the wretched school that consumed their days. Oddly enough, the red one and the orange-haired one seemed to be absent.

Konoha knew that they didn't sleep at the secret base, but they always spent their time there. Konoha had concocted a deep investigation of where the two occupied their nightly hours, but that case had gone cold in the refrigerator.

Of Konoha's friends, the yellow-haired one laughed, the green-haired one froze up, and the tall green one never came either. Konoha had learned that the tall green one had to 'work' outside of the work that the school work provided in the form of work to work on.

Konoha greeted them lightly, still wondering where the blue girl was.

"Konoha."

He nodded, affirming his attention to the green haired girl. After all, Konoha didn't have any food, so his friends were the next best thing. Maybe if he listened well enough, he'd get fed?

"What happened?"

Konoha rubbed his stomach. Those hours of non-stop chase really worked up his desire for consumable food products.

"We played tag."

Was that a good answer? Would food products be prepared now? Or did they already have readied foods on hand? Konoha couldn't see anything in their hands since they dropped their bags, but maybe there was food in the bags? Maybe he should check.

Taking the silence as an affirmation, Konoha grabbed ahold of the bags, aggressively tearing through them for food, scattering tons of thin sheets and wooden sticks.

Still, by throwing away all of the useless trash, he was able to pinpoint the location of a melon pan, and began his favourite activity. Eating.

And with that, it was happily ever after to everyone who was Konoha.

**Hm. I was going to try to do two chapters today, but I ended up spending an hour and a half reading a webtoon called Annarasumanara. Really long name, but I recommend it to everyone here. **

**Er, that is to say, I really enjoyed it and that's my excuse for not catching up today. I also tried Warframe for the first time, and that might've also affected my writing time.**

**I was also originally going to try to make this srs stuff or something, but then I realized that Konoha is not a serious boy. Thus, a game of tag destroying thousands of dollars of technology sounded better to me. I left the title though, which doesn't really match the story anymore, but oh well.**


	12. Sleeping With the Fishes

Swimming With the Fishes

Hibiya didn't know why he killed the mood, but he did.

It was a very simple thing, an invitation, a suggestion, a thought given voice. Even if Hibiya had run the idea through his head few dozen times or so, stirring up a ton of varying potential outcomes, _this_ wasn't what he'd expected.

Like gosh, it was something so simple, just a single action that he'd suggested.

To swim or not to swim.

Hibiya had proposed this question to the Dan, having invited them over to the farm for a week. The novelty of _living_ on a farm, seeing all the animals, and the view of the stars, it'd all worn away by the third day.

In its place, was the pain of having to smell animals everywhere, and the lack of high tech services and traditional big city food options. To rectify this, Hibiya suggested they all go swim with the fishes.

Of course, this idea was a complete bomb. It crashed like the red bean cola cake idea, in a mass distribution of glances to the side and quiet mumbles.

Still, Hibiya wasn't quite sure _why_ swimming was such a negative amongst his friends. Fish were pretty swell animals, and a farm being near a beach that looked like a resort (which it was, as another source of revenue along with the petting zoo) was pretty rare.

So why hadn't anyone liked the idea?

Seto had laughed awkwardly, asking if he could use the bathroom, putting down the dog he had been holding.

Kido and Kano watched him go, and didn't respond.

The old hag, in a burst of uncharacteristic behavior, didn't say anything.

Shintaro didn't either, but that was understandable. He was itching to get back to the game console he'd smuggled in, the same one that Mo- the hag had confiscated. Takane seemed just as eager to get at it, their old rivalry flaring up.

Marry glanced around at everyone else, observing the silence and choosing not to comment.

Only Konoha, Hibiya's once rival, seemed not to care, although he knew that Konoha's nonchalance came from a genuine lack of knowledge rather than from dislike. The tall boy, unaware of the discomforting atmosphere around him, continued to bite into an apple, the third one that hour.

Hibiya, realizing what havoc his simple inquisition had wrought, changed the topic, talking about how annoying the free-range chickens were, and whatever other miscellaneous nonsense came to his mind at the time.

Even though the entire Dan had gone through the entire farm and its processes, and even poked fun at him because of it, Hibiya's attempts failed. The conversation barely picked up, and even then it was almost unwillingly, hesitantly.

With that failure on his mind, with the many minutes of silence his question had wrought, Hibiya had to wonder.

About what, someone who wanted to know what Hibiya was thinking at that particular moment might've asked.

That wonder, that curiosity, was of the Dan.

Hibiya had known this rag-tag collection of clashing personalities for a whole year now, and had bonded with them over deaths and consolation. He had been with them, joked with them, and everything, even with his old week-long rival, Konoha.

Yet, in wake of that long year that had passed by too fast, in light of all the things Hibiya had done with them, the time spent, how well did he know them?

Hibiya had been unaware that swimming was a big no-no.

Hibiya hadn't known how to break the silence, and bring everyone together again.

Hibiya couldn't even keep the conversation going again after his failure.

Hibiya could not, he had not, he would not.

Why did Hibiya even call himself their friend if he could so thoughtlessly, so mindlessly, bring up bad memories? How could Hibiya be a friend, a comrade, anything if he didn't know much at all about any one of them?

Whether it be Kido or Kano, Seto or Marry, Shintaro and the hag, or Takane and Konoha, what exactly did he know about them? Their pasts, their presents? Sure Hibiya lived in the same building as a good chunk of those people, but still, he still know them, he didn't fully _understand_ them.

Hibiya knew that he shouldn't be able to fully understand someone in a year.

Hibiya knew that it was an awfully bold expectation to understand a group of people within a short time frame, even if they lived together.

Hibiya knew, this he was completely sure of, that he was by no means a perfect person, nor a good analyst of character.

Hibiya was wrong to have believed in himself more. It was a pipe dream, a false reality, a shattered illusion to have thought himself that close to the rest of the Dan. Hibiya didn't have some fancy long past relation to the other members.

Even the NEET Shintaro did, with his old waifu being the sister of Kido Kano and Seto.

Even the mindless Konoha did, having once been part of a closely knit group with Takane Ayano and Shintaro.

So even then, Hibiya reflected, he was still probably just a kid to the rest of the Dan. Even though he might consider himself their friend, to them, Hibiya might just be the kid they hang out with. They might humour him, they could praise him, but when time came to shoot, he was disposable, unnecessary.

Hibiya thought about a lot of things in the silence he'd caused, in those long long five minutes of waiting he had before Seto came back with three more dogs tailing him.

Then, almost like magic, almost as if someone had chanted the magic words _annarasumanara_, just like that, everyone looked up, got over whatever had troubled them, and laughed.

They laughed at Seto's predicament, where all the dogs vied for his attention, and then contested each other by trying to occupy as much of his body as possible.

They laughed at Marry's sad attempts at aiding the poor boy, doomed to fail from the start. She didn't do much, and the dogs clung to Seto like a cat to its sleep.

Even then, even though Hibiya laughed along with them, after the dogs finally calmed down, his thoughts came back to him. What was he to the Dan? Who was he, and what was he to them?

Consumed by the curiosity, ignoring the cat by his side, Hibiya spent a good portion of that night in quiet melancholy. He wondered, he thought, and he used the bathroom a lot.

Hibiya sipped a glass of water, much like the elaborate gentlemen with their wines, and fancied himself as one. In fact, the thought amused him to the point where he drank and drank in front of a mirror by himself, striking faces and changing his posture to suit his imagination.

Hibiya laughed, his mood soaring once more, ready to go back to his friends and spend the night talking. Then, someone knocked.

"Come in. You know you don't really need to knock, right?"

The door swung open and Shintaro shuffled in, casually dumping his rear beside Hibiya, holding a can of soda.

"I'd rather be safe than sorry. _Again_."

"That was a one time thing!"

Hibiya's face burned, remembering his panda suit. It really was warm and comfortable, but Shintaro walking in was… another thing entirely.

"Just to let you know…" Shintaro trailed off, glancing around the room.

Maybe the floral pattern was a bit distracting? Hibiya might've blushed, had he not already had the wonderful crimson shade upon his cheeks. The dazzling pink tones and shades illuminated the walls. Why his parents decorated his room like that, he didn't know, but Hiyori had teased him to no end.

"Ahem, ah, sorry, I thought you'd want to know that Seto and Momo drowned." Shintaro coughed.

"…What?" Hibiya stared at him, full attention on Shintaro.

"It was how they entered the heat haze. Seto tried to save his dog, and Momo drowned along with dad."

More unbelievable notes. Hibiya had never really brought up the topic of _how they had all died before_, but that was a little… unexpected. Sure, he knew they all died, but Hibiya had almost forgotten in the everyday happy life he'd lived in the past year.

"I-I see. Sorry, I should go apologize to you and everyone else. I'm very sorry." Hibiya stood and bowed deeply, then moved to find the rest of the Dan.

"No." Shintaro deadpanned, pulling Hibiya back onto the bed.

"What?"

"No need to. No one blames you for something you didn't know." Shintaro drank a long draught of his cola, and Hibiya watched in silence. For the first time in forever, he thought that maybe, just maybe, Shintaro might not be as uncool as he'd thought.

"Shintaro!" A screaming Takane flew through the door, nearly tripping over a set of books.

"Found. You. I have a score to settle, rematch now!" Shintaro sighed.

"You mean our 0:7624 score?"

"Shut up, I'm beating you today."

"That's what you said yesterday."

Hibiya watched as Takane dragged Shintaro out of the room, the taller boy not even bothering to struggle. He wondered if maybe he would be that close with the rest of them someday.

Then Takane popped her head back in.

"Hibiya, you coming? I need more witnesses to prove that I beat Shintaro."

Hibiya smiled lightly, pushing back the worries and anxious thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

That night, Takane did wondrously, changing the score of 0:7624 to 0:7645, as the whole Dan watched in fascination, Hibiya included.

_PROMPT – Write about swimming._

**Hmm. I may have gone somewhat off-topic from the prompt. Then again, I change my ideas a lot, so I guess it doesn't really matter. **

**I also changed the writing style somewhat, from bulky paragraphs to a million split sentences. It's a bit less heavy on the MENTAL CONTEMPLATION this way, or so I assume it would be if the entire conflict in this one-shot didn't take place in the form of MENTAL CONTEMPLATION.**


	13. Invisible Woman

**Yes, I did the second one! Now I'm caught up. Got a bit side-tracked on this one too, but oh well. Prompts are only prompts.**

**Italics are for English, and bold in the story for jabs at Kido's femininity. **

Invisible Woman

Kido sometimes wondered if she had too much time on her hands. That or Kano was trying to get on her good side for something, she couldn't tell. Still, a little time to herself wouldn't be a bad thing, Kido supposed.

Kido, using her privileges as the official leader of the Dan, forced Marry into going on a walk with her, for exercise reasons. Even if Marry's metabolism was permanently perfect in ways that Kido envied, the fluffball still needed some physical activity. After a generous amount of dragging and arguing, Marry agreed, but only if Seto came in case she needed to be carried.

With that simple announcement, Seto, her brother and Marry's knight in shining green, jumped onto the bandwagon, as did Kano. It was almost like a family outing, the ones that happy families would do from time to time.

But even in such a simple setting, Kido still needed to use her powers. Marry was a rather… what was the word… _unique_ sight, a young girl with fluffy white hair cascading down to way past her waist.

Although Marry was kept hidden and walked right in the center of the group, Kido could feel the stares raining down on her from all sides.

No, they weren't exactly at _her_, but rather, at the suspiciously brightly clad trio of hooded teens. Kido didn't blame them, she knew the Dan was a little… funny-looking.

Just by hair colour, they stood out. Kido had green hair, and Kano blonde. One commonly stereotyped indication of a _rebel_ or maverick was dyed hair. Sure, Seto had black hair, but practically everyone Kido met assumed that she had dyed her hair. Didn't they understand that she was a natural green?

Even ignoring hair colour, their long customized hoodies would stand out just as much as luminous green hair. A tall boy bright green top to bottom, light purple and green pants, to a black and white hoodie, what was there not to suspect?

Kido wondered what would've happened if she wasn't hiding Marry. Would they have been stopped under the suspicion of doing bad things to Marry? The innocent little fluffball in contrast to their sketchy apparel would spell bad things. Maybe it would've been better for Kido to hide _all_ of them?

Still, it was far too late now. Besides, the crowded streets of downtown Mekaku were a rather hard place for a group of four to navigate without bumping into anyone.

Before they knew it, and luckily without being questioned by any police forces of any form, the Dan had made its way to a familiar park. Marry had already given up and let Seto tote her around the playground, while Kido and Kano took a seat on the bench.

"It's like we're a family," Kano said idly, "Marry's the daughter, I'm the useless uncle, Seto's the mother, and Kido's the **father**."

"Kano, no." Kido warned.

"Kan_yes_."

Did Kano just go there? Did he really?

"Kano, are you insane?"

"Kan_yes_ I am." Kano smirked, his grin stretching annoyingly wide.

"I'm going to-"

"Shh." Kano pressed a finger to her lip, startling Kido into silence.

"Wh-"

"There are children in this park." Kano shushed her.

Kido sighed, and slumped back on the bench, watching the kids play. Seto was pushing Marry on the swings. Tons of other kids roamed the area.

"I'm _Supaa Min_!" One boy posed, majestically fisting the sky.

"Well, I'm the invisible man." The second boy countered.

"I win! _Supaa Min_ is invincible! I have heat vision and light rays and super speed and strength and flight and everything!"

"But I'm invisible, you can't see me. I win, because _Supaa Min_ wouldn't make everything go boom just to catch me."

"That's cheating!"

"No, I'm the invisible man. _Supaa Min_ can't compare, right?"

Kido listened in on their conversation more attentively than she'd realized. Why was she paying so much attention to the America-filled thoughts of elementary schoolers?

"_Wassup_ invisible **man**," Kano nudged her, laughing with his attempts at English.

"Shut it."

"Hey, but do you think we'd be heroes if we revealed our abilities?" Kano nudged her again.

"Just think about it: Kido, the invisible **man**, saves the day with **his **amazing partner, Kano the hero of a thousand faces."

"Hah, that'd be a thing as soon as you actually read Joseph Campbell." Kido snorted.

"So never?" Kano remarked lightly.

"Yeah."

A silence settled down as they watched the two young boys battle out their fantasies, now as mecha warriors. After a few minutes, Kano got up to find a public bathroom, leaving Kido to stare at younger males.

"Kido-san?" A voice called out from behind her. Kido whipped her head around, catching a glimpse of a familiar face.

"Koki-san?"

"Ah, yes, what a coincidence right?" Koki laughed a little.

"Mhm."

"Ah, Kido-san, I've been meaning to ask this for awhile, but…" Koki trailed off, glancing from side to side as if looking for something.

"Yeah?"

"W-would you go out with me?" Koki's face reddened like an apple, and Kido froze like a stone.

"What."

"I mean, would you go on a date with me tomorrow?" Koki squeezed his eyes shut, as if afraid of Kido's response.

"What what what."

"That's a no." A silky voice cut in sharply. A blonde girl dressed in a summer dress strutted up to the awkward group. Her face looked like something out of a magazine, her clothes just as beautiful.

"W-who are you?" Kiko asked hesitantly.

"Kido's girlfriend. Now scram." The blonde waved dismissively.

"What are you doing?" Kido hissed, watching Kiko run off through the park.

"Shhh." Kano hushed her again.

"Why did you do that? And of all things, why my girlfriend?"

"Because it was fun." Kano said lazily.

"Really."

"Yep. Who would've known our little Kido was so popular with the guys? Maybe after Kiko talks to a few of his friends, you'll be even more popular with the girls, hmm?"

Kido stared at Kano, making a split-second decision. She turned invisible, hiding her annoyingly red cheeks.

"Invisible **man **has returned to save the day!" Kano triumphantly cried, knowing Kido could hear him.

_PROMPT – If I were invisible, I would…_


	14. Hello Mr Wolf (1)

**And I'm a day behind. ****_Again_****. This is going to be the start of a 2-3 chapter long arc set in the wonderful AU of little red riding hood. I blame essays for the delays.**

**Also, have I mentioned that despite doing fanfiction for 13 (14) days now, I've never really touched an AU? Odd. Too bad I have just the right ****trash**** chapter to fix that. (I call all my writing trash)**

Hello Mr. Wolf (1)

Ayano awoke to the birds chirping, the chick-a-bee's whistling, and the calls of nature, in more ways than one.

_After_ rushing to the bathroom, Ayano washed her face, draping her favourite red cloak around her shoulders. It was a warm day sure, but it was always better to have more skin covered than less in the forest. Who knew what kinds of bugs could fly down and as much as Ayano enjoyed being in tune with the natural world, mosquitoes were always a bother.

"Onee-chan! Breakfast is done!" Kido, her playmate, called out. Since all the adults were busy with work-stuffs, they had to prepare their own meals.

Of course, "they" wasn't just limited to Ayano and Kido. No, there were a grand total of five kids in the area, and for safety purposes, they were all kept together.

Thus, Ayano had long since become acquainted with the only people she knew her age. Being the oldest, Ayano was like their older sister, and they were all one big happy family. That was, when they tolerated each other. Kano picked on Seto more often than she could count-

"Wah!" Seto cried out. Ayano rushed into the room, instantly assuming her role as the big sister. Her eyes scanned the room, immediately tracking down the points of interest: Kano's apologetic smile and Seto's tears.

"Seto, it's…"

"Kano," Ayano reprimanded, "you can't always pick on your brother."

"But it's… sorry Seto." Kano bowed lightly, before giving Seto a chunk of his breakfast in apology.

"T-thanks." Seto murmured, the crybaby only matched by Marry, who seemed to get upset just as often. The two made an odd pair, but together neither seemed to be as… easily excitable. Where was Marry?

"Where's Marry?" Ayano asked, voicing her thoughts.

"I think she's still asleep." Kido shrugged. "Haven't seen her all morning."

"Isn't Marry supposed to make the delivery?" Kano asked lightly, still munching on his slice of bread.

"What?"

"Your daddy wanted you to drop something off at Azami's house, but you were busy gathering berries," Kano went on, "so Marry volunteered to go for you."

Marry had volunteered to go to the graveyard? Odd. Ayano knew that Marry, although she always had good intentions, wasn't very… brave. Why did Marry agree to go?

"Kano, did you?" Ayano accused, pulling the blonde's plate away from him.

"No! Well, maybe I did do something, but I only dared her to go." Kano protested.

"Kano." She warned him. "You shouldn't-"

"It's not like I made her agree; I just dared her to do it! I'm, I'm innocent!"

"Kano."

"Yes." The boy ducked his head, resigned to his fate.

"Could you wash up today? I need to run an errand." Ayano smiled at her brother, the smile that meant _you better agree or else_. Being nice was so much fun!

"Yes." Kano groaned.

"I'll be back by supper." Ayano announced, before heading to Marry's room.

Ayano didn't know where Marry was per se, but her room was as good a guess as any. After all, if no one in the house had seen her, either Marry had woken up way before anyone else, or she had never left. Jumping through a window was also a possibility, but Marry wasn't the kind of person to do that. Maybe if Kano really… no, probably not.

"Marry?" Ayano knocked on her door, wondering if her friend was really in the room. A sudden crash gave Ayano her answer.

"Y-yes?"

"I'll make the delivery." Ayano declared.

"B-but…" Marry emerged from her room, with a list of directions in one hand and a closed basket in the other. As odd as it seemed, Marry seemed fully prepared to venture deep into the forest, as if her _last_ attempt hadn't failed miserably.

Azami had once told Marry to go out and gather some berries, but Marry had ended up getting lost and being discovered by Seto, all the way over at their encampment. 'Course, without that slip-up, none of them would have ever met Marry, but Ayano still didn't trust Marry's sense of direction.

"…Kano said I had to." Marry finished, looking as if she was going to cry.

Kano was really going to be in for it. Why hadn't Seto or Kido stopped him? Maybe they were busy _actually doing_ their chores?

"Don't worry," Ayano told her, "I'll get it. I've told off Kano once, and after I come back, _I think I'm going to need to do it again_."

"R-really?"

"Yeah. Pass me the basket and directions." Ayano smiled at the younger girl, taking the two objects lightly. She led Marry down the stairs, returning to the pack of children.

"I'm going to be going now." Ayano announced, unexpectedly with everyone's undivided attention. It was almost like she was going to be leaving _forever_ just by how solemnly they listened to her.

"Behave yourself alright Kano?" Ayano

"Why only me?" Kano protested. "Kido and Seto and-"

"Because Kano, I heard about what you did from our fluffy little friend." That shut him up.

"A-anyway, be good okay? Tell dad that I went in Marry's place."

Then, with an almost teary goodbye, Ayano marched into the forest, leaving the settlement she'd spent almost her entire life in to venture off into the unknown. Or rather, into the forest Ayano was also familiar with, having spent years exploring on the whims of Kido, Kano, and Seto.

Still, Azami's house was deeper into the forest than Ayano had ever dared to go, and even crossing over into a more… dangerous area. Wolves roamed the forest, as did various other creatures.

Ayano just hoped that if anything, she wouldn't meet a wolf. Wolves were her encampment's boogeyman, the terror in the night. She would hear them howling at the moon, and lie in fear. Wolves were the stuff of folk legends, feared by many, seen by none who lived to tell the tale.

Ayano was doing pretty well on this, or she did for the first few hours of the trek. It was a long journey just to deliver a single basket's worth of goods, but apparently since the last visit, Azami insisted on a child delivering the gifts. Between whispers of "witch" and "monster", the villagers gave a general consensus to bide by Azami's wishes.

So, how exactly did Ayano's wishes break and shatter into a million tiny starbits? Of course, with her luck, she just had to meet a wolf, a big beastly animal casually glaring at the trees. In the shadows, the wolf's pelt perfectly camouflaging it. Ayano didn't even see it until she was right in front of it, a mere three metres. Still, even then, only its red eyes gave the wolf away when it opened its eyes.

"Why, hello there Mr. Wolf," Ayano called out nervously, and waved to the wolf with her free hand.

_AU PROMPT – The main character is reimagined as a werewolf in a magical girl universe._

**Hmm. Again, I didn't really follow the prompt. Oh well, close enough. At least I still had someone be a wolf, even if I ignored the were part of werewolf, and completely shattered the universe modifying it to that of a fairy tale. Yeah, that's close... right? Oh well.**

**Also, not editing these makes me too afraid to read them. It literally scares me.**


	15. Hello Mr Wolf (2)

**Hmm. So, three days late now? I have recently remembered why I chose to do thirty one-shots instead of actually writing one lengthy story. I lose all motivation after two days of not working. Anyhow, yeah, continuation of the last story.**

Hello Mr. Wolf (2)

The wolf stared at her.

Ayano stared at the wolf.

The wolf didn't blink.

Ayano didn't blink.

The wolf didn't say anything.

Ayano didn't say anything.

The wolf didn't move.

Ayano didn't move.

The wolf didn't seem to care about her.

Ayano very much cared about the wolf.

It was after a solid chunk of time when Ayano realized that the wolf probably wasn't going to do her harm. Really, if the wolf took the time to stare at her, either it was a really dedicated predator that wouldn't touch its prey until the prey let its guard down, or it honestly didn't care.

Ayano waved her hand again.

The unwavering red eyes followed her hand, the glowing iris' trailing Ayano's limb.

Up, down, left right, circle, square, triangle. The wolf followed all of it, as if it were a sheep that Ayano was herding.

Ayano let down her guard and laughed. A single note, a quiet but cheerful chime.

And that, was when the wolf made its move. Of course, this "move" was a rather lazy one.

The wolf moved out of the shadows, and propped itself down a metre in front of Ayano. It was almost as if the wolf was waiting for her to do something.

In the spirit of the _still not killed by the wolf_ moment, Ayano decided to try something.

Ayano petted the wolf, fondling the wolf's furry head. Ayano shut her eyes tight, so that when the calm red eyes turned feral, she wouldn't see them. If she were to die, at least let it be on her own terms.

If the wolf had wanted to kill her, it probably would've done it earlier. If it still wanted to kill her, Ayano knew she couldn't outrun it. Thus, she decided to pet it, because gigantic wolves were probably friendly. Maybe they were just misunderstood?

That was probably it.

All the stories, all the tales, they were probably just fabrications of nightmares. There was no basis to them, right? Wolves ate meat, but that didn't mean they were _monsters_ did it? They were just trying to survive.

The wolf made no move after a good fifteen seconds. Ayano cracked her eyelids a tad open, and nothing had really changed. Opening her eyes fully, Ayano saw… the exact same things she'd seen before.

"I think," Ayano said, testing the waters to the wolf's tolerance to human voices, "I'll call you Shintaro."

"Iron-Thick-Youth" was a great name. The wolf's strong thick limbs were like the metal, and Ayano assumed the wolf was young, because of its curiosity. Ayano's father had always seemed to know everything, so if the wolf was fully grown, then obviously it wouldn't be curious. Maybe if the wolf was a bit older, it'd have eaten her.

Ayano's skill to craft names from scratch on the spot was unmatched by anyone she knew. Then again, Ayano didn't talk to many people, and of the ones she spoke to regularly, most younger than her.

That detail though, was unimportant. To Ayano, it was completely irrelevant.

The wolf, on the other hand, seemed confused. Maybe it didn't know language, or Ayano's words went way over its head. Either way, _Shintaro_ and her were off to a great start.

"Now, onward to Azami's house!" Ayano declared, trying to psyche herself up again. She started to walk off, hoping that Shintaro was sufficiently confused as to not follow her.

So Ayano checked over her shoulder after a good five minutes.

Guess who was there?

Shintaro was, the big burly wolf trailing behind her like a dog.

Ayano slowly bent down, curious about the wolf. She grabbed a thin stick, and tossed it to the side. Shintaro loped off, and Ayano went on her way. Another ten minutes or so of following the extremely detailed set of instructions she had and Shintaro was back.

The wolf carried the stick in its mouth, which looked tiny compared to Shintaro's wide frame. Ayano wondered whether Shintaro's jaws could also extend far enough to clamp around her head. Physically, they probably could. Whether Shintaro would eat her was another topic entirely.

It was in this manner which Ayano traversed the forest, the sun's friendly rays gradually growing dimmer and dimmer as the hours flew by. It was in this mindless haze, Ayano wondered how far away Azami's house was. The instructions she had weren't the best indicators of _distance_, rather they told her what direction to go from where, and had one of those fancy needle-y contraptions attached for directions.

As Shintaro bounded by her side, Ayano could feel her stomach growl. She was tempted to look into the covered basket, which was producing a very nice smell, but Ayano knew that to go to Azami's house and eating the gift would be as dumb as harvesting berries to burn. It just wasn't worth it.

It would be another eternity or so to Ayano before she realized that she was only like three quarters of the way there, and the sky had already turned dark. Did visiting Azami include a night stay? Ayano hoped it did, because she suspected Shintaro's presence may have been the only thing that stopped any other animals from attacking her. Of course, Ayano didn't have any guarantee of how long Shintaro would stalk her for either.

How had her father expected Marry to get there before nightfall? The forest wasn't the safest place to be, and Marry was… well, Marry. Marry had never had the best physical endurance at the best of times, and hours after hours of walking? Ayano imagined her friend in a lot of difficulty, not unlike what Ayano went through.

Ayano had entertained a wolf, and walked for hours on end. It wasn't as if the exercise was anything odd, but having to check every few minutes to see if she was going the right way and backtracking when she wasn't was a killer. It was mostly the backtracking part, because every tree looks the same when you're lost.

That was when Ayano heard the howls. Long, rabid and gut-wrenchingly ominous, the wolves began to howl at the moon, performing their nightly ritual. Ayano glanced to her side, where Shintaro prowled in the dark, his raven fur making him blend in to the shadows.

Shintaro made no sounds, no howls, no growls, nothing. It was as if the wolf was too lazy to expend the small amount of effort to live up to a wolf's fairy tale image of a psychotic moon murderer. Of that, Ayano was glad. She wasn't particularly fond of psychotic moon murderers. Ayano supposed it was just a fact of life. No one did, as far as she knew.

A slight pant from the right, and Ayano froze in place, a little scared, more terrified. It was dark. Wolves were out and about, and even if Shintaro had yet to kill her, other ones may. In the moon's pale light, Ayano couldn't see so much as to be so hyperalert that she could safe her own life, if need be. She also didn't have a weapon of any sort, not that it'd help.

What she did have, was Shintaro, _who was on her left_, still following her even after the minutes turned to hours, and hours to half a day. The wolf nudged her, and Ayano continued going on her way. The moonlight was enough that she could just barely read her guidelines.

Then a guttural growl made Ayano pause in place again. It came from _her right_, another enormous creature leaping out from the shadows.

Ayano ducked.

The creature, _the wolf_ collided with Shintaro, sending the two rolling into a tree. Some growling, some barking, some whining and some howling. Ayano watched their odd progression from her original vantage point. Should she run? Should she leave Shintaro and the other wolf and get going to Azami's house? Should she stay and risk dying to this new wolf, or the others that were inevitably in the area?

All tough questions. Ayano slowly backed away from the two grappling wolves, knowing that sprinting would draw needless attention. It would be loud, and obviously noticed. Hopefully Ayano could just walk out of this situation. Hopefully.

Moments later the two wolves came back up, as if their wrestling session was like a plaything to them as it was to Kido and Kano. Kido always won, but Kano always challenged her. Why were wolves reminding Ayano of her two younger friends?

The two wolves steadily approached her, slowly, as if mocking her slow pace. Shintaro stood in front of the other, having won the scuffle. Were they going to maul her? Were they both going to follow her all the way to Azami's house? According to her sheaf of parchment, Ayano could faintly make out that she was almost there. Almost. She might never get there if the wolves decide to kill her here.

Then Shintaro nudges her, as if to say _get on with it_. Ayano obediently begins to walk, wondering if at any second, another wolf would leap onto her. Nothing. Ayano wonders if she would be their entertainment, prey that would run but eventually caught and killed. Still nothing.

For another half hour, Ayano followed her instructions, all the while curious about why the wolves were following her. Curiosity? Amusement? Burning carbs? Ayano put it down as curiosity.

Most humans feared wolves. In stories wolves were the deniers of the happily ever after, the villain, the oh-so-frightful enemy that steals livestock in the shadows of the night. But did humans understand them? Did humans interact with wolves in person? Or did they base all that off assumptions, off of mere speculation?

Were the wolves to blame for eating?

Were the wolves to blame for taking food conveniently boxed in?

Were the wolves to blame for the colour of their fur?

Were the wolves to blame for a human's take on their nature?

No, no no no.

Ayano sighed, wondering when the wolves would leave. Would they follow her all the way to Azami's house? Would Azami think that the village was trying to get her killed by herding wolves to her residence? Ayano knew that Azami was respected by the village, but also feared, as if the old lady were a monster in disguise.

Neither wolf made any noise, neither Shintaro nor his follower. They occasionally batted at each other, but even then the two kept their silence. Ayano almost felt like a shepherd, leading the two very large and not-livestock animals by the nose.

Maybe they knew Azami. Maybe these wolves were just misunderstood, maybe these ones were Azami's pets. Maybe the wolves just pretend to be scary and evil so that humans would leave them alone.

Before she knew it, Ayano found herself at the last instruction of the list.

_Keep moving North until you see the house. Knock once, but do not knock again. Your grandmother will come when she feels the need to._

Ayano knew that Azami wasn't her grandmother, but she wondered why knocking more than once was bad. Was it rude or disturbing?

A short minute of walking, and Ayano's expedition was finished. The house wasn't a large amazing mansion, but rather a homely looking two floor building. It looked unlike anything Ayano had ever seen before, with a small set of steps rising up to the main entrance, the whole thing crafted in ways Ayano didn't understand.

Ayano pushed past the fence, striding up to the door. Ayano glanced behind her, the wolves staying behind the fence. Were they afraid of Azami? An old grandmother?

Ayano knocked once, firmly and strong on the door. As she waited, she stretched her sore muscles. The walking wasn't too strenuous on its own, but the sheer distance made it almost painful. While carefully following the needle or worrying about the wolves, Ayano had ignored it, dismissed it, but without anything to concentrate on, it was the only thing that dominated her thoughts.

Why was it taking so long? What if Azami wasn't home? Ayano carefully placed the instructions and gift basket down on the stairs, sitting to stretch her legs. Ayano stretched her upper body one way, then the other, feeling the burn in the back of her legs.

Ayano yawned. It was late, Azami wasn't answering, and she had nothing to do. Her limbs were worn out, she was awfully tired, and there was nothing to do. Ayano could only wait on the wooden platform in front of the door, and there was nothing she could do.

Ayano didn't know when exactly she fell asleep, but on that hazy platform at midnight, she leaned against the door. To Ayano, it was as comfortable as the cotton back at home, the solid wooden frame as soft as the fabrics from the city.

What Ayano did know, was that when she woke up, she was in a foreign building. It seemed there were a thousand books carefully arranged on shelves, and she was lying in what felt like a comfortable bed. Ayano glanced to the side, a see-through expanse of some magical material showing her a wonderful view of the blinking lights, the stars, the wonders above and beyond.

"Awake already?"

Ayano turned around, and she saw a girl shorter than her. The girl had a lengthy trail of black hair swinging from her head, falling past her knees, a fancy city-like red ribbon tying it up. The girl looked young, but in a way resembled Marry, and if you substituted the black clothes and hair for white, the red accessories for a lighter shade, they might look almost identical.

Then Ayano realized. It was Azami. This fairy-like entity, this short smug-looking "girl" was Marry's grandmother.

The "grandmother", the "old lady", "the witch", these were all horribly inaccurate ways of referring to Azami. Azami was much more than that, in her self-assured expression to the youthful brilliance that she exuded.

This was the entity known as Azami.

This was Azami.

**Hm. I'm a bit iffy about how it ended, but eh, oh well.**


	16. Hello Mr Wolf (3)

**Wow I'm really letting myself go. Ah well. I'm five stories short, assuming I do one daily from now until the end of April, but I don't see myself closing that gap to anything more than three short. Oh well.**

Hello Mr. Wolf (3)

A wolf doesn't have much to do.

The alpha male, the strongest, the biggest, _the best_, had nothing to do, on a perfectly good afternoon. It'd already hunted once, and that was enough sustenance for awhile. As a result, the alpha was undeniably bored.

The alpha male didn't blame anyone or anything. To him, that was simply how the world worked. Wolves were unchallenged in this forest. Nothing could compare to the pack, nothing could beat the pack, and nothing could stop the pack.

Thus, the alpha was rather bored, a quality that he'd found himself feeling more and more often in recent times.

Maybe that was why, in this sunny afternoon, the alpha male found itself following a tiny female human through the forest, for hours on end.

The alpha could barely understand what she was saying, if at all. He could however, tell that the human was scared. Of what, the alpha didn't know. Did the human not like the forest? Did the paper they kept reading trouble her?

The alpha prided itself on being a fountain of wisdom for wolves, but to not understand a human was humiliating. What would the pack do? Right, they wouldn't. Still, the alpha took it as a personal challenge.

By following the human for a passage of two hours, the alpha had taken note of several things. First off, the human had a habit of referring to him as "sheen-TAR-o". Whenever the human tried to tell the alpha to do something, it said "sheen-Tar-o".

Second, every few hours or so, the human would beckon the alpha to go away, again saying "sheen-Tar-o". Then, the human would squat behind a tree and fumble with their abnormal skin-coverings. It was very disturbing. Whenever the alpha tried to get a good look at why the human waved him off, "sheen-Tar-o" was repeated rather loudly, and the human immediately stopped doing whatever it was she was doing.

The alpha assumed it was some ritual or practice. Humans had a lot of them; very dumb things from time to time, like keeping their food out in the open. Didn't they know that it was dangerous to leave food lying out in a field where just about anybody could take it? For shame.

The alpha supposed that this small female human wouldn't have had much of a say though, assuming she would have an opinion. The human was always nervous, something that probably translated badly in relationships. Why was she so bothered? Was it that she lacked other human companions?

Humans were, after all, pack animals. They lived in packs, traveled in packs, and hunted in packs. That was it. The human female was afraid of being alone. To rectify this and confirm his suspicions, the alpha decided to nudge the human's leg with his snout. Just y'know, as a reminder that the alpha was there. As a companion maybe? A compatriot?

For whatever reason, companionship didn't comfort the human female. She jumped a little, showing signs of anxiety, worry. The alpha didn't understand. Was it not comforting? Perhaps this human was against being with others? That would explain the human abandoning her human dens.

The alpha spent hours observing his mark, his test subject. While not everything he gleaned from the experience was necessarily helpful in understanding the odd human, it was at least somewhat amusing.

Why do humans splash themselves with water in some places but not others? If the goal was to wash one's self, not washing everywhere seems awfully inefficient. Why do humans erect stones over their dead? It's not as if they'd stay there.

Humans were an open enigma, a mystery, a puzzle to the alpha. As the alpha watched this young human, he felt as if maybe, just maybe, with a little more time, he could piece it together. So the alpha decided to stalk this small female human awhile longer.

As time passed, the alpha realized that they were approaching the monster's den, the overwhelmingly powerful presence that surpassed even the wolves. The alpha had never challenged this monster, but despite his overwhelming superiority to other life forms, he was unsure of the possible outcome.

After all, no member of the pack had ever returned from challenging the monster. In recent cycles, never once had any wolf even dared to attempt, and a patrol was even set up to stop any suicidal wolves. The human was nearing the patrol line, treading awfully close to the cut off, the point of no return.

Yet nonetheless, the puny human kept going. Did she not know fear? Did the human lack basic principles of self-preservation? Humans were weak, but did this human intend to kill herself? Was it a rite of passage? To glimpse the monster and live would probably get one accepted in any community.

To back up that theory, the wolves had, on several occasions, caught sight of multiple humans heading the monster's way. They never left a single person short, but that was always a group of taller humans. This short, puny human didn't stand a chance. Or did she?

The alpha knew that the human wouldn't have a chance, since a single human could never match up to a single wolf.

But.

What if.

What if the human wasn't meant for combat? What if the human was a sacrifice to appease the monster, or an offering? A lowly service human, doing the dull jobs like sending gifts wrapped in baskets of tree fur? Was that was this human was?

That's when the alpha heard the growl. The low guttural growl, the dare, the _challenge_. These were the words of a wolf. That was the voice of someone in _his_ pack, part of the shift on the borders of the monster's territory.

It was someone the alpha knew very well. In fact, the alpha knew her so well that the only reason this particular wolf was in this patrol to _get her away from him_. Simply put, they weren't the best of friends.

A moment's pause, a brief break into silence, and the alpha braced himself for impact. Or rather, relaxed his muscles, because that would reduce the bodily strain after being charged head on.

Did he mention that a wolf head on charged him? As proud as the alpha was of its physical and mental capabilities, a wolf was a formidable foe in and of itself, even when mindlessly hurling itself at its target. The alpha went rolling alongside his attacker, an annoyingly capable shewolf.

Face to face and snout to snout, they wrestled, the alpha getting some dreadfully long time with his smaller _friend_ in. Her blue eyes flashed with irritation as the alpha pushed her down, but only for a moment.

"What are you doing here." She growled, freeing herself of his grip. She was a slippery wolf, no doubt, but the alpha had never missed out on a chance to catch her.

"This human amused me." The alpha muttered, pinning the shewolf down.

"You're nearing the monster." The shewolf warned, before craning her neck to nip his ear. How cute. For a moment there, it almost seemed like the shewolf cared about him.

"As is the human. I intend to follow as close to the monster's abode. I don't care if you follow me." The alpha declared, watching for the shewolf's reaction.

A blink, and the iris' of blue seemed to come to a conclusion.

"I'll go." The shewolf told him.

"Then let's get moving." The alpha turned to the human, who was noisily inching away, as if wolves didn't have ears.

"But only because you'd get lost without me~"

"On second thought-"

"Let's go!"

The alpha didn't press her any further, instead deciding to nudge the human onwards. The young human seemed to be having decision issues, after all. It was understandable to feel fear when so close to the lair of the beast. Even the alpha, the best, the greatest and the strongest felt the natural fear of the unknown, the fear of that which may yet prove stronger.

Still, it wasn't as if the alpha intended to meet the monster. The human could follow whatever crazy notions it desired; a more intellectual race like wolves didn't have to follow through, even if they did follow.

It would be another good chunk of time before the trees broke way to a clearing, a haunted desolate place of needless flowering plants, whose boughs were robbed from not by the birds or animals, but by the monster. It was the evil thing's den, its _home_.

Yet the human kept on going, the small female's resolution superb in every way. The alpha could _almost_ admire the human's stupidity as it strode up to the unnatural structure. The shewolf beside him also gazed with an uncharacteristic silence, perhaps appreciating the loss of life the same way he did. In the short minutes they'd been together, the human had been quite impressionable.

It was a shame that the human was going to end herself.

Any pointless waste of life was a shame, after all.

The two wolves watched in silence as the human slowly sank to her knees in front of the structure, the life being drained from her body merely by the proximity. When the body had finally come to a stand-still, the wolves knew it was time to depart. After all, it was one thing to kill for sustenance. It was another thing entirely to watch a kill for sport.

**Hint: Shewolf is Ene, even though "Ene" didn't come into existence until after Ayano died. She comes in now though, for reasons I'm not really sure of. Maybe I didn't want to wait until Ayano's death? Dunno.**


	17. KaNOT Stop KaNO

**Yes, two in one day! I wasn't expecting to finish this, but oh well, I did. **

**I swear, how fast I write is dependent on how trash the story is.**

**And so, in the spirit of 4/20 day, I present to you the story of Shintaro halllucinating. Enjoy?**

KaNOT Stop KaNO

Shintaro's first job application went swimmingly.

Or at least, for Kano it did, because laughter is good for the mind. Genuine laughter, some say, can add years to your life span, because of serotonin's beneficial effects.

This made Shintaro want to throttle Kano all the more, just to take away all the decades of extra life he'd provided for the blonde. Needless to say, by any _normal_ person's standards, the interview was disastrous.

It had all begun so peacefully, so _normally_, in the summer of Shintaro's first year at university.

Momo, trying to be the responsible little sister that she'd always wanted to become, cutting off Shintaro's entire miserly spending budget. Momo wanted him to get a part-time job, since his courses were too easy for him anyway. Shintaro was guaranteed to have tons of spare time, and Momo wanted him to use it productively.

Shintaro had had other plans though, things he'd wanted to do with the money and time. With the time he could spend by himself in his room, Shintaro had very elaborate activities mapped out. Shintaro was going to play video games, get caught up on the latest 2chan business and much much more. Shintaro was going to spend his free time in bliss, separated from his sister and the Dan by several hallways. Emphasis on the word _was_.

However, like all good dreams, it had to come to an end eventually. Sooner or later, Momo had to burst his bubble, releasing Shintaro to the wild world of "job hunting", a skill foreign to the genius, even if he'd read through extensive guides on the topic.

Social skills were one of the things that someone couldn't master through a high IQ and complete sensory recollection, or whatever Shintaro's eye ability was referred to. Personally Shintaro preferred complete sensory recollection, but Takane would, on occasion, jab at his _manly_ pride by suggesting that maybe this "sensory recollection" would allow him to arouse himself at any point of time in the day.

Now, it wasn't as if Takane was wrong, but again, that was one of the abilities that Shintaro could never obtain, the unique power to tame the wild Takane Enomoto. Shintaro supposed maybe someday he'd get a mastery ball and his problems would all be over, but for now she was a nuisance. It was especially so when she'd do… _routine_ check-ups on his room at the university, dropping by to sneak a peek at whatever it was Shintaro was doing.

And so Shintaro found himself seeking help from the master of part-time jobs: Kousuke Seto.

Unfortunately, Seto was busy. Between maintaining his previous two part-time jobs, university work and studying, the boy was a non-stop working machine. Especially with his volunteer work of helping to take care of Marry and Konoha, the boy really had his hands full.

On the other hand, Kano wasn't busy at all, and as the two were roommates and brothers, Kano knew exactly what Shintaro wanted. Being the (wicked) _good _Samaritan he was, Kano felt the need to drop by to help Shintaro prepare.

Thus, Kano invited himself in the day before the interview, with Shintaro too nervous to care.

"So are you looking forward to the interview?" Kano started up the conversation lightly, as if talking about whether or not to eat an apple rather than Shintaro's potential future _private stash_ funding.

"No." Shintaro glared at the blonde.  
"Why don't I help you?"

"That's funny. Now scram." Shintaro dismissed him, waving at him to shoo, like an owner with his cat. Kano on the other hand, was inclined to do no such thing.

"You know, I've gone into three job interviews before. I know the works. I could help out." Kano bragged, inspecting his nails like some stereotypical Western film officer.

"Really."

"Really. I KaNOT believe you're questioning me Shin-Shin. I thought we were friends!"

"Out." Shintaro pointed at the door, indicating very clearly that Kano wasn't welcomed in his dorm room. How was it that members of the Dan never came in when his roommate was here? It was truly suspicious.

"Okay, okay fine. But seriously now. Who better than to practice interviews with than the _master of disguise_ himself? I can be anyone, anywhere, anytime."

"Fine. Can you try to run through a few basic questions?" Shintaro gave in to Kano. Well, not quite. Shintaro gave in to his inner anxiety and pessimistic beliefs, his thoughts that even for a small service job, he needed an extensively amazing appeal and interview, as well as resume.

"How's this?" Kano winked, eyes flashing red for a split-second.

"What." Shintaro stared at a mirror image of Kido, perfectly copied into a frilly pink maid apron.

"Not to your tastes? How about this?" Kano snapped his fingers. Before him, Shintaro saw _his sister_ tied up, complete with chains, duct-tape and arms pinned behind the back.

"I'm done." Shintaro said simply, packing away his laptop and grabbing his bag.

"Sorry sorry!" Kano apologized, changing back into his regular self. The blonde clung to Shintaro's sleeve, holding him back.

"Are you going to be serious?" Shintaro asked quietly.

"Yes yes, sure I will. You're applying to Company Q right? Let's see…" Kano trailed off, snapping his fingers to change into a young-looking woman, resplendently dressed in a formal looking uniform. Her- _his_ eyes were serious, mouth not upturned, not even a little.

It was as if Kano had become another person entirely, a performance so unnerving that Shintaro almost lost it. But this was Kano. There was no need to be nervous around Kano. With that, Shintaro sat down, back straight as a stick, hands folded neatly in his lap, resume in hands. Shintaro felt ready.

"I'll start with a few basic questions, if you will Mr. Kisaragi."

"Alright." Shintaro affirmed.

Shintaro watched Kano's illusion carefully, the creases around the mouth, the slight tensions made in the face, the muscle movements even. Kano must've had amazing concentration to maintain a constant misleading image, right down to the hairstyle and makeup. Kano had come up with every single little detail awfully fast, from the very slight accent from another dialect to the brand of her- _his_ shoes.

"KaNOT you tell I KaNOT be KaNO?" The woman broke her cold, firm persona for the first time, revealing traces of the manipulator's own mischievous personality.

"Please."

"My apologies. Anyhow…"

Kano immediately became business-like, firing questions similar to those Shintaro had read about, showing textbook examples and responses. For all the irritation the blonde caused, when he wanted to Kano could be deadly serious, and maybe even helpful. Shintaro certainly came out of the mock interview feeling a lot more confident and relaxed at the thought of the real job interview.

So then the actual interview came, and Shintaro walked in, head held high and prepared. Then it struck him, in two different ways. Or rather, _she_ did.

The woman interviewing him was the exact mirror image of Kano's persona from the mock interview. Did Kano know this woman? He had seemed familiar with the company… but that wasn't important. What was important was to present himself to this woman.

Coincidentally, the interviewer _also_ had the exact same intonation as Kano had, pronunciation, accent, you name it. She wore the same clothing Kano conjured up, something nearly impossible to predict _a full day before the interview_. Yet again, Shintaro couldn't let that get to him. Even if the parallels were intentional, Shintaro couldn't let it get to him. He needed that money.

Almost anticlimactically, the interviewer asked the exact same questions that Kano had. Shintaro found himself falling into his groove, calming down to a completely relaxed state; he was at ease replying to this woman's words. After all, it was essentially the same conversation Shintaro had had with Kano the day earlier. It was almost too easy.

Then it all went wrong. It was such a simple thing, such a simple matter, but Shintaro somehow confused himself. How Shintaro managed it, he wasn't sure. But he blamed Kano for it, a hundred percent of the way.

It was the one break in the pattern, the one outlier from the rest of the points. It was one question that Kano had not _legitimately_ asked, yet the interviewer asked it. Or rather, something very close, so very close that Shintaro lost it.

"I KaNOT fathom why you KaNO of this company, and given your qualifications, I also KaNOT understand why exactly you wish to apply for this position over the multitude of openings in other companies. KaNU enlighten me?"

To Shintaro's bleeding ears, it sounded like countless puns on Kano's name, amalgamated into a simple but deadly set of phrases. Unfortunately, that was when Shintaro lost his cool. The façade, the memory of the mock interview had overlapped with reality. To Shintaro, this was Kano. To Shintaro, this wasn't an interviewer, nor was he an interviewee. To Shintaro, this was just another disappointing joke of Kano's at something that Shintaro cared about.

"Shut up!" Shintaro raised his voice.

"Excuse me?"

"No, I will not excuse you Kano. You do this all the time. Ever since you came back from the park last month, it's always been yourname this, or yourname that. Frankly, I don't think anyone really cares for your name being stuck into every possible conversation. Can't you at least try?"

"Mr. Kisaragi, if you would."

"Why are you-… oh." It finally broke across to Shintaro that this woman _wasn't_ Kano. He had known from the beginning, but somewhere in the mirrored speeches, the copied questions, the endless parallel connections, Shintaro had forgotten this oh-so-important detail.

"Yes 'oh', Mr. Kisaragi. I do not believe we require your services here at Company Q. If you would see yourself out, that would be most pleasant."

"Sorry! I'm so sorr-"

"Please excuse yourself. I do not feel that Momo Kisaragi's older brother would like to be seen being manually hauled out, yes?"

With that, Shintaro wordlessly left in shame, having miserably failed his first and only job interview.

What was worse was having to explain _why_ he was kicked out to the rest of the Dan. It was one thing saying that to say that you didn't do well because you weren't very experienced in people to people conversations with strangers. It was another thing entirely to go over how you managed to switch up one of your closest enemies with a stranger and try to lecture your interviewer as a result.

Shintaro did come out of the experience with one very tasty tidbit of knowledge though.

Never trust the wild Kano in his natural deceiving habitat. It's like foraging through tall grass with a level one rat; don't do it.

**As another note, the puns wouldn't work in Japanese, because whatever the interviewer would've been saying probably wouldn't have worked out so well. Meep.**


	18. Hello Mr Wolf (4)

**Meep.**

Hello Mr. Wolf (4)

Ayano stared into Azami's red irises, the fairy-like figure swaying in the scarcely illuminated room.

"Y-y-yes." Ayano stuttered.

This was the witch, the evil monster of the woods, the figure with just as much notoriety as the wolves. Yet this was also Marry's grandmother, an entity nice enough to bring Ayano in, and tuck the girl into bed. Ayano didn't know how to talk to Azami, what to talk to her about, or even what to do. Ayano was scared of the mystical presence… but at the same time intrigued.

Azami answered all of these questions, as if she could read Ayano's mind.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to eat you. Nor will I cook you or bake you or petrify you; just calm down, relax, and go to sleep. You need it. "

"R-really?"

"Yes.' Azami nodded, her abnormally long hair swishing through the air, on a gust of wind that ignored walls.

"Okay. Thank you." Ayano laid herself back down onto the bed, closing her eyes to push out the stars' and moon's pale white light. Ayano heard soft shuffling, and the creak of a city door's hinges.

"You're welcome Ayano." Azami softly murmured, so quietly that Ayano could barely hear the woman's voice. With that, Azami shut the door, a click resounding through the room signifying her leave.

It would only occur to Ayano much later that Azami had known Ayano's name without a self-introduction.

…

The morning came, calling Ayano up with bird calls and the whispers of nature, all pervading into the room as if the room had no walls at all. Ayano groaned, pushing away her messy locks of raven hair, messily pushing herself up to a sitting position.

Then Ayano remembered where she was.

Wide awake now, the girl's eyes widened like saucers. Ayano glanced around the room, almost not believing what she saw. It was like a dream, a wondrous display of what could only be described as magical.

Foreign symbols spun and whirled through the air, like they were leaves in the breeze. They blazed different colours, not unlike a campfire or a bush blaze, but so much warmer. These floating markings wouldn't hurt her; that Ayano could tell with no words. Ayano needed no magic to know that there was no hostility hidden behind the lilting and whimsical lines.

Ayano tore her gaze from the flying glyphs, and refocused on the room itself. It was different, very different from her forested encampment. Tendrils of water rippled along the walls, running up the walls and across the roof. Ribbons flames burned with no fuel, seemingly endlessly in their little cups of earth. The air blew with no wind, nothing behind it, but still carried the song of a mockingbird.

The room was so many things, so many enchantments, magics, things Ayano had heard of only in myth. Yet here they were, as casual as could be. Azami may not have been a monster, but she was certainly a skilled practitioner of the arcane arts. How else could this house exist? How else could a river run upwards towards the roof or a never-ending blaze of fiery fire? There was no other explanation.

Ayano suddenly felt self-aware. She was no one special, by any account. Ayano was the daughter of a somewhat well known member of the community, but that was still only her community. Ayano reckoned that in the whole flat world, there would be tons of people who didn't know her father even existed.

Still, Ayano was here nonetheless. She was in the home of a magician, a wizard, a witch. Ayano wondered why Azami had never been more of a conversation topic back at the encampment. Would magic not hunt more efficiently than the leverage layman? Could magic not grow crops and encourage livestock better than a regular human ever could? Why didn't Azami ever apply her talents elsewhere, rather than staying out here in anonymity?

Ayano supposed it wasn't her place to go on about Azami's position as the magician's guest. Still, how was it that no one had known of Azami's existence until after Marry had been found?

It was a mystery, but Ayano's job wasn't to solve mysteries. It was her job to deliver a gift to Azami to appease Marry's grandmother.

On that note, on that particular train of thought… where had the basket gone? It was nowhere to be found in the room, and Ayano dared not explore more than she was allowed of a magician's house. All of the stories told of hugely complex defense mechanisms, elaborate tortures, and even a self-destruction clause.

Ayano knew nothing of actual real life magic, but it sounded like common sense not to trespass on any magician's property.

And so, Ayano could do nothing but wait and wonder when Azami would come to relieve the marvelous room of her. Fortunately, Ayano didn't have to wait very long. It would only be a solid sixty-seven seconds before Azami strode into the room.

"Good morning." The magician greeted her.

"Good morning!" Ayano repeated, bowing her head repeatedly.

"Thank you for the bed! Thank you for the stay! Thank you for letting me in! Thank you!"

"It's nothing. You can stop bowing now." Azami humbly noted, twirling up a miniature vortex atop her palm. Ayano stopped as commanded, face flushing red as an audible growl rumbled from her stomach.

"I'm sorry to ask this, but do you have any food?"

"Yes." Azami snapped her fingers, immediately conjuring up a white stone tray, various different assortments of berries and other gatherable fruits assorted randomly on top. Azami released it, letting the gentle breeze slowly carry it over to Ayano in bed.

"Again, I'm sorry to-"

"Spare me." Azami laughed. "I'm sure I'll hear that again today, won't I?"

"Y-yes? N-no! N-no, you won't. I'm so-"

"It's fine. I don't mind." Azami waved her off, beckoning for a chair to swing on over. The magician plopped herself down on her furniture, her small frame visibly sinking into the cushioning just as the plate of food deposited itself in Ayano's open hands.

Ayano glanced from the food to Azami, wondering if she should wait for her host to eat first, or get some food of her own.

"Go on, eat. I know you're hungry." Azami told her. Ayano hesitantly plucked a grape off the trimmed stem, pausing with it at her mouth.

"I've already eaten. Go ahead." Azami repeated herself, sounding a little irritated.

Needing no further command, Ayano dove into the fruit, inhaling grapes and berries like air. She heaved them in by the dozen, or so it seemed. Soon enough, Ayano had voraciously destroyed the entire collection of fruit, her appetite more than satisfied. It was delicious. Ayano wondered how Azami cultivated her plants. Magic maybe? That would explain how good it was.

"Done?" Azami asked, still relaxed in her thickly lined chair. Ayano nodded, half an apple still lodged in her mouth as she chewed.

"Now, tell me about yourself Ayano." Azami requested.

Ayano almost choked on the remains of her fruit. That sounded personal. It seemed very personal, to talk about one's self, one's whole being to someone else. Still, it was Azami. Azami was a Marry's grandmother, and a magician no less, so Ayano supposed it would be like talking to someone much older than you. She had to carry the utmost respect for her elders.

"Mrs. Azami, I…"

"Do away with the 'Mrs.'. Just call me Azami." Azami impatiently interrupted.

"Azami, I come from the encampment down yonder. I-"

"Do you have any siblings?" Azami cut in again.

"No, but I'm pretty close to some of the other kids! I'm the oldest, but Kido and Seto and Kano are all really-"

"What about my granddaughter? Do you spend time with her too?" Azami interrupted once more, mouth forming a firm line. It was obvious what her priorities were, and Ayano didn't blame her. The woman was bound to be worried about the granddaughter that had run away from home, gotten lost, and taken in by complete strangers.

"Marry? Yes, we actually spend a lot of time together! We play games and everything."

"Games like?" Azami asked, once again relaxing her body, lips tilted upwards slightly for a slight smile. Ayano took a brief pause, taking in that elegant beauty.

"Well, we…"

Ayano found herself opening up to the magician, talking about things like the kids to Kano's teasing, going on about her life and her solitary world of the encampment. Ayano rambled about the wolves and the tales told around the campfire, of the not-so-beastly wolves to the not-quite-evil "witch" of the woods.

As the two discussed, talked, and partook in conversation, Ayano grew more and more comfortable, at some point beginning to see the shorter woman as a friend, a companion. It was no longer a case of forced politeness. It had become two allies, two _comrades_ of a sort, going on about themselves and the world around them.

In fact, Ayano became so immersed with Azami that even after lunch and a general tour of the area, it was only when the sun started falling when she remembered that she needed to return to her encampment.

"I gotta go: it's a really long trip back home, and it's nearly sunset already. I have to get back before tomorrow otherwise it'd be suspicious." Ayano hurriedly explained to Azami, who merely raised an eyebrow.

"Would you like to get back _faster_?"

"Well, yes, but it's a really long journey, like I said before. Takes the better part of the day." Ayano repeated herself, glancing at the setting sun. If the forest wasn't safe during the day, it was undoubtedly worse in the darkness of the night, especially this time without two guardians trailing her. Ayano wondered if she'd get back at all.

"I'll teleport you." Azami told her nonchalantly, as if instantaneous travel was a regular fact of life. Maybe it was to her, but to Ayano, it was as mystical as the magical glyphs in her room that morning.

"A-are you sure you should?" Ayano murmured, wondering how much of a toll such magic might exert on the user.

"Yes yes. I'll even leave you an enchanted little trinket." Azami fished through her pockets, retrieving a perfectly round red stone, and pressed it into Ayano's hand.

"This can bring you from your home to here in a few seconds. Just concentrate on one or the other, and you'll be there. Try it, it's not very hard."

Ayano gulped, rubbing the clear reddish stone in her two hands, bringing up memories of the kids, her home in the forest, their favourite play-place in the day and the firepit.

"Good, good. Just like that. You'll come up somewhere a bit off to the side, just so no one sees you teleporting in. Make sure not to tell anyone about this, okay?"

"Okay." Ayano agreed, closing her eyes to visualize her home.

"Just one thing before you go." Azami told her.

"Yes?"

"Next time you bring a gift, don't sleep on it." Azami giggled.

Ayano didn't even have enough time for her face to flush red before the warp happened, a disconcerting blur of colours as countless greens and browns sped past her. Before she knew it, Ayano found herself in the gardens beside their encampment, devoid of other human life. Ayano pocketed the pebble, cheeks still flushed bright red from the embarrassment of _sleeping on a gift_.

Still, Ayano had a new friend now, a very peculiar and unique one, but a friend nonetheless. Maybe she'd go visit her again, with the biweekly gift. Why stop there? Ayano could probably convince her father to go _every time_ someone needed to go. Ayano would be seeing a lot of Azami in the future, and maybe even Shintaro if she was lucky.

There were a lot of things for Ayano to look forward to. After all, her world had just become so much larger with just a pebble.


	19. Hello Mr Wolf (5)

**Hm. I should finish this arc by tomorrow. Took me long enough for supposedly 'short' stories.**

Hello Mr. Wolf (5)

It was strange to consider how much a person's life could change from a single action. One tiny slip-up, an itty-bitty little error, and everything can go wrong, so horribly wrong. It was as simple as one-two-three, as easy as hop-skip-jump.

Ayano never wanted this. There were a lot of things she wanted: wishes, hopes, and dreams. Yet this? This was terrible. Awful. Ayano could only close her eyes, hoping it would be a dream, a nightmare to wake up from panting and in a cold sweat.

But there would be no relief from this tragedy. There would be no savior, no hero; if such things even existed in this world of deceiving hate. Ayano took a deep breath, inhaling, exhaling. Ayano was ready to die.

* * *

Where had it all gone so wrong? That was one question that pervaded Ayano's thoughts in her last few moments of living sentience. Everything had been going so smoothly, so easily, but Lady Luck had to tip the tides against her eventually.

In fact, in the two short years between Ayano's first meeting with Azami up till two weeks prior to her deathday, everything had gone well. Ayano kept her conversation with Azami secret to the encampment, as was promised, and when pressed would say that she spends the night there and then leaves first thing in the morning.

As true as that lie sounded, Ayano would actually spend a full day and a half at Azami's home, with the wolves and Azami alike. In those very short years, Ayano had managed to coerce the wolves into meeting Azami face to face, and gotten all of them to befriend each other. After all, Azami didn't have many people to talk to, even if she would hastily say that one other human was enough.

Still, Ayano was satisfied with her other friends not knowing of Ayano's relationship with the magician. It was strangely thrilling to keep a secret for so long, and such an interesting one at that. It was enough just going every two weeks. To Ayano, she was content with her life as it was.

But then Kano became curious. Ayano should've known: little Kano was the only one who kept pestering her nonstop about Azami. Marry maintained her bluff, saying that her grandmother was just a herb-woman, as did Ayano. Yet still, _still_, Kano found doubt in Ayano's words, a little crack to squeeze in to and settle down in. The blonde was relentless when he wanted to understand something.

Perhaps that was why Ayano was about to die. No, that was foolish, disrespectful even, for Ayano to blame the consequences of her faults on others.

Because really, in the end it was her fault.

_After all, everything was her fault._

* * *

Kano was curious about a lot of things. He wondered from time to time why the stars shined, why the birds sang, and even why Kido had grown taller than him. Kano revered all mysteries, like Kido's monthly cycle of hatred for him, but this? This was something _different_. This was something solvable. This was a case with all the evidence present and accounted for, just that the _speaker wouldn't speak_.

Of course, Kano wanted to know more about Azami. From the way the grown-ups talked about the old hag, Azami sounded like a boring old woman. Boring in mind, boring in body, and boring in every conceivable way.

If that were true, if all the words and stories true, then why did Ayano come back after every visit looking as if she'd won the lottery? Where were the scratches, the bruises, the dangers of traversing the long trip through the forest given form? Why did Ayano always return bubbly and energetic, _as if she had enjoyed herself_.

Kano prided himself on his analytical skills. He could tell easily when Kido was about to flip the furniture on him. Kano was also rather adept at perceiving when Seto was about to cry, a skill honed in years of teasing. Thus, when Kano didn't understand Ayano, something changed in him.

A barrier maybe, some aspect of his mind, some part of his will, the conscience thoughts of his body.

Kano needed to know what.

It wasn't a want.

It was a _need_.

To understand Ayano, the one who always took the time to help Kano make up with Seto and Kido. Ayano, the girl who would try to explain Kido's actions but never speak in clear words, but _tried nonetheless_. Ayano, the angel, the nicest human being he knew alive. The beautiful friendly presence that had been in his life since day one, comforting Kano after his parents were taken by the wolves, and many a time after.

Kano wondered what it was in her that changed from going to Azami's home. The burning curiosity made itself second to none, a passion raging through the veins. Kano never showed an inkling of this desire though.

Instead, he asked questions, feigning a much weaker curiosity. Things like "What did you do?" and "Did you enjoy yourself?". However, Ayano faked a stern frown, and told him nothing of substance, lies straight from the top of her head.

The rejections only made Kano's need greater. What was it that pushed Ayano to avoid the question? What was the motivation, the driving push that made her lie?

Kano felt the urge to openly confront her about it, but suppressed that idea, casting it away. It would do no good if Ayano got too suspicious of him. Maybe she'd even start to _hate _him. Kano shuddered at the thought.

So the investigation continued. It was hidden very well, or so Kano thought. He would ask Ayano similar questions every time she returned, sometimes pointing out the _lack of dirt_ on her clothes, or other days why she had so much energy even after making her long trip through the forest. Kano pointed out the inconsistencies, the flaws, hints at a story he knew he was missing out on.

For two solid years, Kano's incognito searches drew nothing. His questions failed to illicit truthful responses from the nicest girl he knew. Kano was running low on options, which he reflected upon one afternoon. Kano knew that after so much time, even with every single little flaw present, he couldn't piece anything together.

Then Kano came up with an idea, something he hadn't tried, something he hadn't _dared _to attempt. Kano would go through Ayano's things, her clothes and trinkets and toys and tools. Kano would find something, anything that wouldn't match his knowledge of her possessions, and that might be the answer. Could it be that Azami gave her little gifts from time to time? Kano intended to find out.

In complete and utter secrecy, Kano snuck into Ayano's room, using the short interval of time that Ayano would always use to bathe, and investigate.

Ayano's room was no foreign place to Kano, but there were places he never touched, things he'd never searched through.

First, the cubbies, the little holes in the planks that allowed for secret storage place. Kano stuck his fist into every one he could find and groped for anything he could touch. After checking all sixteen crack and hidey-holes, Kano found nothing noteworthy. It wasn't a big deal, since there were lots more places to look.

Next, Kano examined Ayano's clothes, all six shirts and five pants, every sock and shoe and piece of fabric with pockets and seams he could scavenge. Kano turned things inside-out, yanked at seams, everything he could to unveil a hidden secret of unknown nature. Perhaps not the best strategy, because Kano couldn't put back the clothing the same way he found it, but nonetheless efficient enough.

As a last resort, Kano went through Ayano's bed, flapping the sheets up and down to dislodge anything foreign to the room. Yet again, nothing suspicious came into existence.

So where was the inconsistency? After those two time consuming activities, Kano was close to giving in for once, almost feeling like accepting Ayano's words, her _lies_. Then something caught his eye. A sparkling stone, nearly translucent and almost invisible in the light, shimmered lightly. It was almost invisible, barely noticeable even with its hazy shine.

Now this, this was something mysterious. The stone was in the corner of a shelf, placed almost inconspicuously with Ayano's old rock collection. It almost blended in with the other rocks, the rough uneven colourful collection it was. Almost.

Ayano had stopped adding to that collection over three years earlier. They had all concluded that the area was thoroughly explored, and thus decided not to spend any extra time looking for things that didn't exist. Ayano had ended up with forty rocks in her collection, a number that Kano mirrored.

But now, now there were forty-one rocks arranged randomly on the shelf. It was obvious that the one that stood out, the one that Kano couldn't recognize, it was obvious that this rock was from elsewhere.

Kano lifted the stone gently, ever so gently marveling at its inner purity. It was partially clear; Kano could see a hazy variation of his feet.

This could only have been from Azami's home, Kano concluded. So Azami had been giving Ayano little gifts, small trinkets. They were carefully concealed, and Kano wondered how many in the very room he had missed, how many he _would have_ missed, if not for this one very important clue.

Kano imagined Ayano in the foreign structure, with an old miserly woman who could barely walk. A unique building, as all of the village-y folk described, an interesting appearance. Kano could almost see the place, obscenely blue like the clear sky, odd little tidbits flying around everywhere as if by their own will.

And then, Kano was.

One moment, Kano had been snooping around in Ayano's room, searching for the evidence he needed.

The next, Kano was somewhere else entirely, a foreign place and area. Things that obviously _weren't alive_ moved as if they were, flying, floating, swimming in the air as if it were their natural habitat. That is, assuming fire had a home, or rocks other than the earth below it. It was like magic. Or… was it?

What if this was magic.

What if this was why Ayano could get home without a scratch.

What if this was why Ayano always seemed so happy.

What if this was real magic.

What if, what if, what if.

Kano's mind reeled, before he realized that he still held the same little pebble in his hand, almost winking at him in the light. That was it. The pebble. The pebble let him move back and forth.

"Bring me back home." Kano whispered, not wanting to spend a moment longer in this strange place, with the floating fire and living earth.

Nothing. The building still stood as ominous as ever,

Kano panicked.

What if he couldn't get back? What if he was stuck? What if he'd be stuck wondering all the what ifs he could until he died?

Kano took a deep breath. In, out, one-two-three, one-two-three.

"Calm down." Kano muttered to himself, thinking back to how he'd gotten to Azami's place at all. Kano had been thinking about what Azami's place would look like and…

Was that it? Just imagining the area? Did that mean that Kano could return just as easily? Might as well give it a shot.

Kano concentrated, bringing to mind the clearings they played in, the gardens they worked in, the beds they slept in. Kano thought of Ayano, Kido, Seto, Marry and the whole village as a whole. He closed his eyes, believing in the pipe dream that it'd somehow affect the end result. Kano could've sworn he heard someone calling out, a voice in the background, but in the illusory stupor he went through, he heard nothing.

When Kano opened his eyes, he saw Ayano's room, still in the same form he left it. Kano hastily dumped the pebble back into the congregation of rocks before rushing out of the room.

Kano had to tell someone about Azami and her magic. Magic wasn't something innocent, although flying fire did seem pretty amazing. It was dangerous. Every story with magic either had the villain using it or the heroes. From what Kano had heard, Azami was no hero. Was Azami manipulating Ayano? Anything could be possible, anything could have happened.

Kano knew at this point, that this was crossing from the realm of kids to that of adults. Magic was serious. So, that evening, when everyone who was anyone in the village grouped together for food and drink, Kano singled out Kenjirou Tateyama, Ayano's father. Kenjirou had been the one to take in Kano after his parents… passed, and were perhaps the closest thing he had to a father.

"Kenjirou?" Kano prodded the man, who had just begun to dig into a bowl of fresh stew.

"Yes?" Kenjirou, Ayano's father, replied slowly, paying more attention to his food than Kano.

"There's something I need to tell you…"

**I think Kano might've been out of character? Maybe he overlaps a bit with Shintaro maybe? Eh, characterization is hard in AU's. Or maybe I'm bad at this, either seems just as legitimate.**


	20. Hello Mr Wolf (6)

Hello Mr. Wolf (6)

"Oh really?" Kenjirou said, as if not believing Kano's tale.

Kano knew that telling anyone about magic and teleportation and potentially evil witches was a long shot. Kano knew that he told lies often, jokes, pranks and anything of that ilk. Yet now Kano was just trying to make sure that Ayano stayed out of harm's way.

"Are you lying to me?" Kenjirou asked slowly, slurping up the rest of his stew.

"No." Kano replied. The boy carefully examined the man, watching him for his response.

"Alright. I'll see what I can do." Kenjirou sighed, slumping onto the table to rest his head in his arms.

"Thanks." Kano bounded off, back to the kids to eat and drink and enjoy himself, feeling all the better for having brought the issue to Kenjirou's attention.

It was just too bad that doing so would doom them all.

* * *

A week later, and Ayano was off once more, on her way to Azami's house, gift basket in one hand, the other securely holding her magic pebble in a pocket.

Ayano waved at her friends and her father, wishing a good day to those who were at home and a farewell. It was only a day and a half in real time, but Kano had told Ayano it sometimes felt like longer.

Ayano did what she did every two weeks: she ran off into the forest, making sure to lose anyone that might be following her, like Kano had three months earlier. Once Ayano was sure that she was a safe distance away, that no one could possibly catch her in the act of using a _magic_ tool, she finally fished the pebble out of her pockets, the pale red glimmering in the morning sun.

Ayano concentrated and within seconds found herself at Azami's place; it took much less time now than it had before after numerous uses. There, Azami was waiting, a table set up with food-stuffs already prepared.

"Good morning!" Ayano called out, setting the village's gift basket down on the table alongside the food. The magic table-setters automatically moved the basket, retrieving its contents, and arranging it into a more suitable form.

"Good morning." Azami smiled, leading Ayano past the table, around the house. Ayano glanced back, the table suddenly becoming wreathed in an icy mist, preserving and protecting the food.

"Ayano, have you by any chance… ah, well nevermind." Azami trailed off,

"What is it?" Ayano prodded the magician, verbally and physically.

"Nothing, nothing." Azami waved it off, dismissing her words from earlier.

"What was it?" Ayano prodded again, poking the magician's rounded cheeks.

"Nothing important! Now, let's see, you wanted to see the flowers in bloom, right?" Azami immediately changed the subject. It was a bit odd, coming from the magician, but Ayano knew that there were some things Azami just didn't like to talk about. In a way, the shorter but infinitely older woman was even more stubborn than Kano at times, absolutely refusing to talk about _certain things_.

Things like why Azami was all alone in the forest. Sure, Marry had once lived there, but aside from that lone exception, Azami lived by herself. Azami didn't like to talk about her family, Marry being that outlier once again. Azami refused to say why she hid herself, and by extension, her family away in an obsolete forest. The magician would always clam up, change the topic, and move on.

Still, that left a lot of things to be answered by Ayano, things she could only speculate on. Ayano was genuinely curious about Azami, the fairy-like "monster" of the forest.

It was just too bad that Ayano would never get the chance to ask most of them.

* * *

Later that day, as the sun shone brightly with a nice afternoon breeze, Ayano chatted amiably with Azami, bringing up Kano's most recent scandal. Although in the past few months, Kano had become more… _tame_ in his actions, the blonde was still a troublemaker through and through.

Shintaro bounded along beside the two, providing odd company for two girls, both young in appearance. The wolf was easily taller than either if it stood on its hind legs, and had a maw large enough to squeeze a body to death. This wolf, however, was their accomplice. Their _friend_.

It was then, on that oh-so-fateful day, when Azami stopped them. It seemed odd, for the shortest of the group, the most fragile looking of the group, to stop the rest with a single hand, but Azami was the kind of person to break such expectations.

"Stop." Azami hissed, putting a hand to her eyes, covering them to see what only Azami could see. She froze up, body locked solid for a few lengthy moments.

"Shintaro, run. Ayano, you hide in the behind the curtain of grape vines over there." Azami commanded. The wolf hesitated, tilting his head as if he hadn't heard right.

"Get going, shoo. It's dangerous, an accursed one is about." Azami whispered.

"What's an-"

"Ayano, get behind there, and don't come out. Now." The usually tender tone in Azami's voice was gone, eradicated, as if it had never existed. What replaced it was the voice of a commander, one used to the ideology of "I say it, you obey it". So Ayano did, scampering off to the garden, forging through the other plants to squeeze into the gap between the walls and the mottled barrier of vines.

Ayano watched for a few minutes in silence, as Azami hurriedly grabbed for a bunch of things: a long stick, a hat, a few vials, and every single enchantment that littered the large expanse. One by one, the enchantments lost their life, disintegrating into mush in front of the magician, flame burning out, water splashing down, earth falling to the ground.

Azami downed all six vials in seconds, before collapsing down on her bum, big archetypal witch hat draped over her face and the stick balanced over two palms. The magician almost looked like a statue, not moving, no indication of life aside from the tiny mouth movements that Ayano could barely make out in the shadow of the huge hat.

It all seemed a bit overkill for a joke, and Azami was much too serious for anything of that nature. Putting out the lives of every augmentation? Those were tedious to build, and shutting them all down willy-nilly seemed a bit out of the ordinary. Everything pointed towards Azami preparing something, and with the mention of an "accursed" something, it was all the more likely.

Yet despite all that, Ayano saw nothing. Nothing came, nothing attacked, nothing fought. It was silent, completely silent aside from the winds in the trees, and the birds chattering-

No, not even that. There were no birds, no songbirds or pests. No living creatures populated this garden for once, all the animals scampering away. There were no bugs to be seen, no pests to catch, nothing at all.

And then Ayano caught a glimpse of it.

It was huge.

It was enormous.

It was a monster, a _real_ monster, not like the tales of Azami.

It had three heads, one familiar, one unfamiliar, and one feared. A goat, a familiar face, a furry head of golden fur, and a serpent arching upwards like a bolt of skyfire. A chimera.

Dark blood dribbled from the furry one's open jaw, and it spat dark fur to the side. Had the chimera caught Shintaro? Ayano began to shiver in the confines of her hiding place, in the warm hazy sunlight. Ayano was hidden, sure, but what good would that do? How could Azami fight this thing, even with magic? It was twice her height, probably five times as fast, and seven times more deadly.

Then, and only then, did Azami stand, pointing the stick directly at the chimera, as if the thin twig could possibly stand a chance against the agile beast of a monster. The chimera roared, but stood in deadlock, staring the tiny magician down.

Three seconds of nothing. Four, then five. It seemed like forever had passed in such a short time, that in those few seconds, the world had begun, climaxed, and come to an end all in that time.

Then, after sixteen full seconds, the chimera pounced, diving in Azami's thin frame. Ayano shut her eyes tight, not willing to watch the carnage, but again, nothing. Ayano heard no screams, no voices, and no noises aside from the three simultaneous growls of the chimera.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Ayano cracked her eyelids back open, and saw something strange, so unexpectedly out of the ordinary that in any other situation, she might've laughed.

The chimera was flying. Or, to be more precise, it was floating, held up by a wavering red barrier that surrounded Azami in every direction. The barrier moved, almost of its own will, and tossed the chimera around as if playing with the enormous predator.

Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, Azami could get them out of this, with all of them alive. The chimera roared again, pounding on the barrier to no success. Ayano saw Azami's self-assured smirk, the magician easily dominating over this powerful enemy. How strong was Azami anyway? The magician could win after all.

Then Azami's grin faded. It vanished, like a puff of fresh air, whisked away by the winds. Azami's barrier shattered like the see-through substance, known as _glass_, when it received an impact. The chimera pounced down, going toe to toe with Azami like a game of cat and mouse. Azami ducked, weaved, dodged and waved, but this was the chimera's strongpoint.

It had three heads, all of which larger than Azami's one. It could maneuver its body in inconceivable manners, whizzing one way and next the opposite seemingly at random, just to catch the elusive magician. Yet despite all the advantages, physical and not, the chimera still failed to touch Azami even once.

The chimera roared again, clearly frustrated by the match. It lashed out in all directions, pinning Azami to the wall, between the goat and serpent heads. The golden head purred contently, as if already assured of its victory.

Yet again, Azami proved herself extraordinarily overpowered by the standards of the regular person. Ayano watched in fascination as the chimera froze up, locked in place as a grey virus engulfed the huge animal, from all three heads to toe. It was almost like a stone, a huge well sculpted rock.

"Well, now I know not to look you in the eye. A pity I know, for such a pretty old lady like you." A _much_ too familiar voice echoed through the vicinity.

No.

It couldn't be.

Ayano's father was here.

Kenjirou Tateyama was here, completely unharmed, sounding entirely safe and sound.

That could only mean one thing. As illogical as it were, as dumb as it sounded, Kenjirou's presence only meant one _damn_ thing.

It meant that Kenjirou Tateyama, Ayano's father and sole parent, was responsible for this attack. It meant that Ayano's own father wanted Azami dead, and had manipulated a chimera just to kill her.

Ayano watched in cold horror as her father sidled up to the chimera's stone-dead body, tapping it as if examining what it was made of.

"I figured the controller was somewhere around here. A chimera alone can't shatter my magic." Azami sighed, as if tired of being attacked. It was almost as if Azami was used to this, that _accursed_ beasts were typical everyday foes.

Was this why Azami lived by herself in seclusion?

"Indeed. But I can. Would you like to give in now _monster_, or would you like to resist?" Ayano's father remarked lightly, as if they were discussing how to properly groom a sheep.

"I'll just kill you." Azami replied nonchalantly. "Why risk it?"

"No reason in particular." Kenjirou shrugged. "I just don't feel safe knowing that the monster, the _enemy of humanity_ still lives."

"They still call me that?" Azami groaned. "That name was awful. But enough of the chit-chat. You still want to die?" Ayano's father laughed. _Laughed_.

"I could go for some of that." Kenjirou smiled, lunging for Azami with a hand outstretched, easily a head taller than the magician.

"Okay then." Azami dodged, nimbly evading Kenjirou's every attack with effortless grace. Ayano's father launched projectile after projectile of arcane runes as he attacked, but each one was neutralized by Azami's own. The air became so full of magic that even from the distance Ayano was hiding from; she could feel the crackle of it on her skin and in her mind.

Within a single minute of this conflict, Azami had again, easily established complete and utter dominance over the fight. The magician was _playing_ with Kenjirou, curling his hair as he desperately grabbed for her neck.

Then it seemed as if Azami got bored of the one-sided war, and pulled Kenjirou down onto the ground. Azami suppressed Ayano's father, her thin stick now a fine rapier, the tip prodding Kenjirou's neck.

Ayano's father flailed and kicked around and all about, but Azami stood on his back, a red barrier pushing him to the ground. Kenjirou was helpless to Azami's every whim.

Azami glanced up once, catching Ayano's eye, her oh-so-fearful gaze.

Azami glanced back down, staring at the man she was about to put down.

Azami stopped in her steps.

Azami lifted her rapier, dropping it to the side and let it fall, the shining silvery blade transforming back into a thin twig.

Azami released the magic suppression, allowing Ayano's father back up, the man staring in disbelief, too confused to act.

It was then when Ayano felt it. A foreign mind probed into hers, dominating all thoughts. It was unknown to her, yet strangely memorable.

It was Azami. Ayano felt it, the presence within her mind, strange yet friendly.

Azami pushed memories onto Ayano, tons and tons of them, so many that it would take years to delve through them. Azami threw down on Ayano her thoughts, experiences, recollections, everything that made up the petite magician.

There were feelings too, like happiness, sadness, despair, everything and anything. It was as if Azami was leaving herself to Ayano, with all the data that Azami deposited into her mind.

Then, at the very end of the sensory rush, just one message ran through clear as crystal.

_I'm sorry._

Ayano blinked away the hazy spots, her vision clearing back up, just in time to see her father behead Azami.

The fairy-like visage flew through the air, severed clean through the neck, before coming to rest on a tuft of grass. Blood spurted everywhere, from the body to _what remained_ of Azami's head.

Ayano's father laughed in the scene, wiping blood off his front and licking it, greedily tasting the crimson liquid.

Ayano had one question. One large, important, overbearing question that dominated all, everything.

Why. Why had her father killed Azami?

Azami had let him live.

Azami had let him get up.

Azami had _spared _him.

Yet Ayano's father killed her all the same.

Ayano stumbled out of the curtain of vines with ragged breaths and wide eyes.

"W-why? Why did you kill her? Azami was going to let you live, even though you tried to kill her. Why did you murder her?" Ayano demanded answers, walking straight up to her own crazed father.

"Because I wanted to." Ayano's father slurped up another smidge of blood from his arm, sticking his blade deep into Azami's headless body to cause more of the crimson to well up.

"Why? Why are you-"

"Shut up." Ayano's father punched her, sending her reeling.

"What?" Ayano crawled back. Her father had never hit her before. Ayano's father had been kind, considerate, _caring_. Who was this? Was this her father?

"I don't need to care about someone I need to erase."

Erase?

She was going to be erased?

That was

odd

strange

out of the ordinary.

To be erased?

How would

one

become erased?

Ayano closed her eyes, not even bothering to fight back. Ayano knew that her father, if that was truly him inside, was perfectly capable of killing her. So Ayano lay herself down, ready to die. She heard the blade whistle through the air, and Ayano made no move to stop it.

But, there's always a but.

A familiar growl, and a whine, and Ayano felt no pain. Ayano opened her eyes, staring down at Shintaro's now limp body. The wolf had but one injury, a long slash wound, _evidently caused by a sharpened blade_.

"Any more pets? I don't have all day." Ayano's father coldly stated.

Ayano curled up into a ball, feeling the futility of resisting. There was no point. She was dead, dead as Azami was, with her headless body, and Shintaro, with his side split in deep.

Ayano was going to die. It had been delayed by Shintaro's needless sacrifice, but in the end, it made no difference. Ayano was destined to die, by some cruel fate's decisions up above. Perhaps if… no, the blame game was pointless.

And this was the "present" that Ayano saw. It was the last few moments of her existence, and she could only wonder how differently her life could've been, how much longer the status quo could've lasted, _if only she hadn't done that one itsy-bitsy mistake._

Seconds later, the swoosh came again, and Ayano thought no longer.

**WHOPEE! HAPPY ENDINGS! This story arc took me way longer than I thought it would. I was expecting to get to Ayano's death by the second or third part, but instead it took me six and just over twelve thousand words. Now I'm scared of reading it, for fear of it all being complete and utter trash. Oh well.**


	21. Necromancer Kisaragi (1)

**Wow I'm late several days. I'm trying to make up for it today, hopefully finishing this three-part arc in well, today.**

**Don't ask why I don't just put it as one big story instead of three small parts.**

**Just a disclaimer before you read this story arc.**

**I'm not religious, and thus in this arc, my knowledge of religion and similar things will be severely limited and most likely incorrect by most standards. I'll also be making things up, so there's that too.**

**I was also unsure whether to put the story in **Japan** or America/Europe (places with a more established zombie culture), but I left it sort of undefined. In **Japan**, to my knowledge, the vast majority of bodies are cremated, and cemeteries aren't quite like the ones in western culture. However, Heaven/Hell (which will be brought up eventually) are… not quite Japanese cultural beliefs. **

Necromancer Kisaragi (1)

"Let the dead live once more, free, alive, reigning in their life.

Let the dead rise to see again, strong, agile, and able of mind.

Let the dead emerge one last time, to serve a greater cause.

May the dead who wish to live once more return, to the whims of life.

May the dead return, and follow my every command."

With that, Shintaro Kisaragi channeled his inner magics, his divine talent for _necromancy_ into the gravestone, using it as a catalyst to control the corpse. It was perfect, sublime, _amazing_ even. Or so Shintaro hoped it would be.

After all, there were no guarantees on one's first awakening. Shintaro had read all this on _The_ _Online Guide to Necromancy: How to Start Your own Zombie Legion!_, the summoning rites, the rituals, the sacrifices, everything. It was all for the dream.

That dream, was of course, to start his own zombie legion to take over the world.

But of course, every world conqueror has to begin somewhere. Whether it be their first zombie, or their first servant, every necromancer has to start with the basics.

This was why Shintaro Kisaragi, an unknown nobody, was kneeling in a cemetery, chanting in the rain without an umbrella. This was what Shintaro wanted. It was what he _desired_.

Then it began. From the gravestone's depths came the deceased's cremated ashes, and they trickled out of the engraved rock like sand in an hourglass. Untouched by the rain and wind, the ashes gathered before Shintaro.

Shintaro chanted once more.

"Let the dead live once more, free, alive, reigning in their life.

Let the dead rise to see again, strong, agile, and able of mind.

Let the dead emerge one last time, to serve a greater cause.

May the dead who wish to live once more return, to the whims of life.

May the dead return, and follow my every command."

The ashes flopped and tangled together, but nothing really happened. Shintaro watched in horror as his dreams of world domination at the peak of a zombie legion shattered into millions of tiny pieces.

Could _The_ _Online Guide to Necromancy: How to Start Your own Zombie Legion! _have been wrong? Was it all a hoax, a trick, a mere _novelty_ for those so inclined? Shintaro had been so hopeful, he had been so faithful in this online resource about black magics, that the mere idea that the guide might've been fake never hit him.

How had Shintaro been so gullible? How had he been tricked like a newborn babe?

One last try wouldn't hurt. One final attempt, before giving up on that childish dream of world domination. Who did that anymore anyways? It was such an old concept, taking over the world, and there was a reason why it remained only a concept: it was impossible.

And so, with a heavy heart, Shintaro repeated his memorized chant, the one he'd practiced again and again, the one that had been engraved into his beliefs and future wishes. If this failed, Shintaro could let go of his foolish passions. Shintaro would go back to _baking bread_. Eugh.

"Let the dead live once more, free, alive, reigning in their life.

Let the dead rise to see again, strong, agile, and able of mind.

Let the dead emerge one last time, to serve a greater cause.

May the dead who wish to live once more return, to the whims of life.

May the dead return, and follow my every command."

Nothing happened.

Just.

Nothing.

Not one of the preserved ashes, though undisturbed by the surrounding elements, moved. None of the prescribed actions, the carefully documented aftermaths, none of it came to be. There was no dust devil as the soul claimed a body from the surrounding life that had taken its body's nutrients. There wasn't a single one of the listed phenomenon that came about.

Shintaro sighed, and turned his back to the gravestone. It was pointless, just another old childhood fantasy broken at the hands of reality.

Then Shintaro heard it.

The winds acted up, tons of tiny specs of dirt flew through the air, combining with leaves, grasses, everything and anything that was there, flew over his head.

Shintaro whipped his head around in disbelief.

It was working.

It was working.

It was working.

The amalgamation of small life forms, the surrounding life, was sucked into a tiny vortex of wind, compressing itself, building itself up. From the whirlwind came feet, and from the feet rose shins of dark dirt. The shins soon became full legs, and the legs grew upwards, the abdomen, the chest, the arms, and last of all, the head.

Details slowly emerged from the rocky body, curves becoming defined and softening the hard and uneven edges. Shintaro watched in fascination as the body took shape, in a form that resembled a human being in every way, although the skin colour was still a mottled combination of greens, browns, and greys.

Hair flowed from the scalp, and with that, the body's, the _zombie's _complexion turned pale, bright as the dawn's light. The zombie's eyes, _her_ eyes opened, displaying brilliant crimson irises that gazed off into the distance.

That was when Shintaro realized exactly what was happening. If Shintaro looked past the mindless zombie he'd just erected, past the fact that necromancy was real, there was one thing that came to mind, a very very pressing issue at hand.

Shintaro was a teenage male. Late teens, mind you, but still only a teenager. This girl looked to be about the same age, except well… there was no thinking around it. The girl was nude. She wore nothing, everything laid bare in front of Shintaro.

Shintaro turned away, social norms overcoming shock.

"Oh god I'm sorry, I-" Shintaro began, cutting himself off when he remembered that the zombie should be mindless, a ghost of its former self that followed all orders.

Shintaro slowly swiveled his head back, suppressing his hormones to _not_ focus on anything below the nape. The zombie was quite pretty actually, her eyes like a magnet.

Shintaro found himself examining the- _his_ zombie. She had fine black hair, which cascaded down to shoulder level- woah, stop there. Look up. That's better. His zombie had rather beautiful features, so much so that Shintaro wondered whether she had had a relationship.

No, no no. Necrophilia, especially with a _mindless zombie_ was a big no-no. Stop. It was all well and fine to resurrect people, Shintaro figured, but it was just… no.

His zombie's mouth began to open her mouth very slowly, still with that same blank look in her eyes.

Shintaro wondered if she was going to try to say something. That shouldn't be: he had specifically gone for a _mindless_ zombie ritual, not a _mindful_ zombie.

Yet all the same, his zombie had widened the gap between her two lips to half a centimeter before stopping.

Then she jumped.

"Ah! Don't look!" His zombie screamed out, hastily crouching down and covering all her… exposed areas, distress very clear in her once empty eyes. Shintaro took a startled step back, giving himself a few moments to process the scenario.

"What." Given the time Shintaro had to think, or three seconds, he felt that this was an appropriate answer. His zombie shivered in place, looking up at him almost in fear.

"W-what did you do to me?" His zombie asked. "I-I-I don't remember how I got here. What were you going to do to me? Why am I naked?" Shintaro's mind was flooded with questions, but it occurred to him that this, at least, was something he could think rationally and explain.

"Calm down." Shintaro told her.

"How can I, when a rapist is in front of me?" His zombie shrieked in near delirium.

"I'm not a rapist." Shintaro stated, very calm and clear.

"T-then why…" His zombie trailed off.

At this point, it was very clear to Shintaro that something was wrong. Something was very very wrong. A mindless zombie doesn't accuse its summoner of being a rapist. A mindless zombie shouldn't be able to be defensive, feel threatened, or anything without a command from a necromancer to do so.

So then why was his zombie acting this way? Had Shintaro messed up the rites? Had he done the ritual wrong? Was the sacrifice inadequate to bind his zombie's will?

"I'm not a rapist." Shintaro repeated. "I'm a necromancer. I brought you back to life. You can thank me now."

According to the guide, most of the recently deceased wouldn't be able to travel to heaven or hell, because of the lag between death and the decisions made by the forces above. There were just too many people dying on a constant basis. So, because of that, Shintaro's zombie probably didn't know she had died.

"Why? Couldn't you just have left me alone?" Or not. Shintaro's zombie sounded awfully indignant about her resurrection. Why wouldn't anyone be happy about getting another chance at life? Something was wrong again. Wow, so many things wrong in so little time. It was a new record for Shintaro.

"Well, I didn't really choose you, so to speak, I just went for any tombstone in the cemetery. It was by chance. Really, I didn't mean to bring you back." Shintaro defended himself. Shintaro wasn't sure why he needed to defend himself for _bringing someone back to life_, but he supposed it was possible to apologize for anything.

"Do you know who I am?" His zombie asked him.

"No, why?"

"I'll give you a hint." The girl laughed mirthlessly. "I committed suicide from the roof of a building."

Shintaro thought for a moment. His zombie had recently died, and was buried here, so she was most likely from the same city he had lived in. Shintaro now knew the cause of death, and if he were to just cross-reference… ah.

"Ayano Tateyama, sixteen year old girl commits suicide for reasons unknown." Shintaro listed off. "Friends described her as cheerful, happy, and always willing to give up time for others."

Well, that explained why Shintaro's ritual failed in the mind-control aspect. The rite was focused on those who had died with regrets, or died purely by accident. For those who wanted to stay in the grave, well, that was something else entirely. Like, _a whole line_ of the summoning would have changed.

"Friends." Ayano, his zombie, laughed again. "That's funny. So, can you just leave me dead, or will you force me to follow your every bidding and command?"

Shintaro noted that Ayano backed away a bit, still nude, taking refuge behind her tombstone. Of course she wouldn't like to be watched. Of course Ayano wouldn't like being seen nude. Even a (hopeful) criminal mastermind could tell.

"Neither." Shintaro deadpanned, taking off his jersey. Hopefully Ayano wouldn't see this as him stripping. Hopefully.

"A-a-and why not?" Ayano stuttered.

"First, put this on." Shintaro tossed his jersey at her. "It's probably going to be a bit big, but I am not going to take off my pants. It'll be like a miniskirt or one of those things that girls wear nowadays."

Ayano caught the jersey, wrapping it around herself as if she was freezing. To be fair, the girl probably was. It was still raining, and she had nothing on. On that note, did zombies feel the cold? The guide had never stated anything about the zombie's side of the equation.

"As for why I can't, you won't dissipate until I die. I believe I can control you, but I may or may not have messed up the original ritual." Shintaro explained. He wondered if Ayano would attempt to murder him in order to release herself.

"Alright." Ayano said, oddly submissively. Hadn't she just wanted to die again? Ayano stood up, the jersey extending down to her mid-thigh, thankfully covering up all her… _parts_, and the sleeves went to her fingertips. Ayano was soaked in the rain, but Shintaro hadn't thought to take an extra umbrella, since he hadn't thought that a _mindless _zombie would care.

"So, what do you plan to do with zombies?" Ayano asked hesitantly. What a fun topic. Shintaro supposed that it wouldn't hurt to tell his first zombie about his future plans.

"World domination." Shintaro said, rather smugly. "Get tons of zombies, take over. That's about it actually."

"Really?" Ayano giggled, a _real_ laugh this time.

"Is there anything wrong with it?" Shintaro narrowed his eyes. Ayano Tateyama was the first person he'd told his childhood dream to, and also the only person who'd laughed at it.

"It's so… cliché." Ayano told him. "All the wanna-be evil lords can plot world domination, because it's _easy_."

"Yeah? Then why don't you try it?" Shintaro replied, feeling a bit put off that _his_ zombie was telling him that his dream was easy.

"Well, world domination isn't hard compared to some other things that no one's ever pulled off. World peace is much harder to accomplish, and not many people can even come close to affecting it."

"Have you ever heard of a criminal mastermind plotting _world peace_?" Shintaro scoffed.

"No, but how many criminal masterminds have plotted world domination? Practically every single one." Ayano countered.

"Nice challenge, but I'll stick to world domination." Shintaro smirked. "C'mon, get over here." Ayano blinked, hard.

"Why?" Ayano asked.

"Do you want to be in the rain?" Shintaro retorted. "I only have one umbrella, and I'm not asking again. I assume you don't want to stay here, and would rather be under a roof."

With that, Ayano sidled over to him, Shintaro's loose jersey fully zipped up as she clung to his side. Why was the umbrella so small? Sure, it was a personal umbrella, but he could've sworn that there was more space.

Shintaro figured this was his first step, his hop-skip-jump, his small start. Today, Ayano Tateyama. Tomorrow, the world.

After all, what can't a necromancer do?

_AU PROMPT – The main character reimagined as a brainy zombie._

**Again, didn't follow the AU very well, depending on who you consider the main character. I still can't tell who exactly is the main character in Kagepro, although FOR SOME REASON the wiki considers Ayano a side character. Meh.**


	22. Necromancer Kisaragi (2)

**My time estimates are always off. I thought this would take 1.5-2 hours tops. Instead it took like 2.5 hours.**

**It also occurs to me that the "necromancy" is more like revival, which is often attributed to holy powers. Oh well. Mind control probably fits under necromancy-like magics. **

Necromancer Kisaragi (2)

_Although the temptation may be great, it is highly recommended that one should not resurrect one's friends and/or relatives through zombification, as that process pulls them out of their afterlife and their actions in the material world may affect where they end up after their final living deaths. This is especially so if you wish to start a zombie legion, as legions most often kill other living beings._

_If you do choose to resurrect your loved ones, it is advisable to do so after taking over the world, as a soul can only be retrieved from the afterlife once, after which it cannot be stolen again. As a result, reviving a loved one before accomplishing world domination risks their eternal death and/or damnation depending on the choices you force them into._

_\- The Online Guide to Necromancy: How to Start Your Zombie Legion!_

It took exactly two years, three months, two weeks, three days, two hours, and three minutes for Shintaro Kisaragi to take over the world. From his first announced attack to the surrender of the UN, Shintaro's world domination went swell. It had been fairly obvious that Shintaro was going to win the war, given the vast applications of necromancy.

As creatures revived from necromancy appear identical to their original forms, it was nigh impossible to tell who had survived an attack, and who had… _been converted_. Humans were a social species after all; they wanted to hope that their loved ones were still alive and perfectly well. Shintaro left the zombies in the UN's care for up to a full year, until one day he forced them all into action, seizing control from the inside. It also helped that Shintaro had managed to take control of a vast majority of their nuclear missiles.

Regardless of _how_, Shintaro had done it. Shintaro had taken over the world, and in that, he found solace. Yet still, because of _why_ he did it, there were those who wished him harm. After all, all the experts on necromancy knew that killing the necromancer would dispel the revived and let them return to the afterlife.

Shintaro thwarted at least six murder attempts and three coup d'eats. In fact, it was ridiculously easy to; because Shintaro had had bugs all around the globe that transmitted information into the supercomputers he'd taken control of. By using their reproductive organs, despite being zombies, the bugs easily replenished their numbers.

Perhaps the UN hadn't expected Shintaro to be capable of controlling several trillion organisms simultaneously, but it wasn't too difficult. By using a network of superior to inferior command, he could relay information instantaneously through the mind link that connected them all.

Some zombies weren't even aware that they were zombies. Shintaro had revived them and not informed them, and locked them in a one-way information pathway. The Prime Minister of Canada had worked nicely for this. Being in the far north, many countries retreated into Canada. No one expected Canada to betray them. It was more like no one expected Canada to do anything noteworthy in general, but that served just as well.

And so, having taken over the world through a rather complex system of complete domination of other life forms, Shintaro had to wonder.

What could he do after?

What was there to do once completing his goal?

What could he do upon achieving world domination?

In the end, it came down to the one thing that Shintaro knew was more difficult than world domination. World peace.

Ayano, his "right hand" had made many suggestions over the years, always pushing the idea of _peace_ over _domination_. Although Shintaro had never agreed initially, he could see why it would be a challenge.

What peace is depends on the opinion of the one thinking. A scenario peaceful to one may be chaotic to another. Similarly, that same thinking would apply to domination, except one is much simpler than the other.

Domination requires dominating. By overpowering the world's greater countries, that could be described as "dominating", because Shintaro had swept them all with relative ease.

But peace? Peace was still something that Shintaro wondered about. Despite achieving world domination, insurgents were common here and there. Although they would never say it anywhere they thought unsafe, few were happy about the management changes of the Earth. Fewer still were glad to have zombies regulate them, even if the zombies perfectly resembled humans and more often than not replicated the adopted human's speech patterns.

Even if Shintaro had taken over the world, peace was still far from sight. Even kept under one banner, one solid rule, peace wasn't guaranteed.

With the implied challenge from Ayano, Shintaro decided to take it into his own hands to provide this mythical "peace". Shintaro worked day and night regulating the zombies and the humans, negotiating with terrorist groups, everything and anything he could to resolve any conflict that came up instantaneously. Having millions of zombies to help worked, as when told, zombies could effortlessly pitch in as much as their bodies allowed.

It took another six months before things settled down on a global scale. If Shintaro so wished it, zombies didn't need sustenance, nor did they require hunger pangs. By reducing the load on the planet by enormous levels, millions more could eat.

Global warming was a bigger issue, and a much more difficult one. Yet Shintaro managed to abolish fossil fuel usage in those six months.

Shintaro did many things, solving problems left and right. It wasn't long before he could say that yes, he had indeed brought about peace on a large scale.

Still, Ayano could point out new challenges, as the one person Shintaro spoke to on a regular basis. Whether it be the satisfaction level of workers, the tolerance level of the zombies who retained self-awareness, the fear of death, whatever it was, Shintaro worked the miracles he could.

In doing so, Shintaro became the whole of humanity's first great dictator, as well as their most benevolent ruler, his every action prompted by Ayano's humanitarian nature.

This great empire would take years to fall if ever, and the only seemingly possible cause for its fall would be Shintaro's death. Even then, that was years away. Shintaro was in his mid twenties by the time he had fulfilled both the tasks of "World Domination" and "World Peace".

As Shintaro was able to control the growth and development of those he had resurrected, or anyone whose mind he'd infected, Shintaro had allowed Ayano to age naturally alongside him. Although Shintaro had told her that he could make her virtually immortal, with a perfect metabolism and whatever body she wished, even to get rid of the menstruation cycle, Ayano had declined it all. Shintaro supposed that Ayano wanted to be the her she would've been, had she grown up in a different place in a different world.

Despite this, Ayano was still oddly herself, even after all the years of domination and peace and warfare. Shintaro found himself _comfortable_ around her, the only human being that he felt this way towards.

Then Ayano combusted.

Literally.

Shintaro had given Ayano one thing he didn't give to a single other living human in the world: privacy. Through some way or another, every single human in existence, and quite a number of the larger animals were under watch by some form of zombie, whether it be a fellow human, or an insect or other animal. Yet Shintaro had told his zombies to shut down their sensory input to his mind when they got within a certain distance of Ayano, as to preserve her privacy.

This, Shintaro supposed, led to their downfall.

Shintaro had had no time to think about this while alive, of course. Shintaro had been much more agitated about Ayano's death, lividly outraged at the event in life. In death though, ignoring the burning hot baths, Shintaro had plenty of time to think.

* * *

"Ayano is dead sir." The oddly calm voice of a mindless zombie resounded through Shintaro's headset.

Dead? All zombies were dead. Shintaro wondered if the mindless zombie had been told to say that by Ayano. Ayano was, after all, the only person who could send orders to zombies involving him. This particular mindless one was programmed to tell news or information in the complete truth no matter the circumstances. Still, it was odd for Ayano to exercise her privileges over other zombies.

"Ayano was always dead." Shintaro replied in a monotone. He stretched, cracking his back while he was at it, and went back to playing his FPS.

"Ayano has died for a second time sir. You know what the second death means." The mindless zombie's voice came over the headsets again.

Shintaro froze. Indeed Shintaro was well aware of the fact that if a zombie dies for the second time, they cannot be resurrected anymore.

"Sir, I am not lying. Ayano accidentally let a fireplace grow too strong, and she was set alight. No zombies were allowed to transmit you this information, as the ones in the room were also burnt before they could exit the perimeter required to transmit to you. Although the cleanup crew finished repairing the room, we were unaware Ayano had been in the room until we recently checked the security footage a minute ago. Ayano Tateyama is permanently dead to this plane of existence."

What? Ayano was gone? The momentary shock was strong enough to let Shintaro _almost_ die to his not-quite rival, Lightning Dancer Ene. Shintaro was down to twelve health when he obliterated the opposing avatar. Close.

"That's a funny joke." Shintaro told the zombie. "Tell Ayano she almost got me."

"Sir, this is not a joke."

"Shut it." Shintaro hissed into the headset.

"Yes sir."

Shintaro browsed through his database of knowledge, as provided by the sensory inputs of trillions of living organisms, a number that was constantly growing. He narrowed the input down to the zombie in charge of watching the monitors, another nameless mindless zombie.

Shintaro watched, as Ayano was burnt alive. The fire spread quickly, too quickly. Ayano had been taking a nap in front of the fireplace, and it caught so rapidly, engulfing the woman almost immediately. Shintaro watched, as Ayano struggled to get to the door, but failed. Shintaro observed her demise, the room's natural anti-fire countermeasures much too late to change anything.

"Dammit!" Shintaro swore, tearing off his headset and throwing it across the room, not caring that the fragile material had shattered into two. _Just like his mind_.

Shintaro felt the urge to hit something. Anger, frustration, hatred, all of these welled up inside of him, just asking to be let loose, to _be free_ in the world.

So, Shintaro let them. Shintaro let out his anger, in person, through the zombies he controlled, through every possible form he knew. Maybe it was childish, to be so infuriatingly mad over one's death, but Shintaro had never prided himself on maturity. After all, hadn't world domination been a dream of his turned reality?

And so, Shintaro pounded his firm, neat desk with his hands, ignoring the pain that rose from his bloody appendages. Around the world, millions of humans followed suit, letting off their stress by doing _anything_ they felt would make them feel better.

In five short minutes of utter anguish, Shintaro had managed to cause six hundred thousand deaths. Only human deaths, mind you, not zombie, not any other life forms. Just humans. Then the pain flooded back into Shintaro's mind and he shut off his connection to the zombies.

Why was Shintaro so worked up? It was the loss of one zombie. He had lost millions in the war, and gained billions back. If it was because of her status as a _zombie_, then there was nothing to regret in her passing. If anything, it meant that the current safety standards were sub-par and needed immediate rectifying.

But Shintaro evidently hadn't seen Ayano as _just_ a zombie. Who was she to him?

Who was Ayano Tateyama to Shintaro Kisaragi?

Ayano Tateyama was many things. To define her as one would be an insult to her character.

Physically, Ayano Tateyama was a zombie, one of the first Shintaro had ever brought back from the grave, and the one he'd possessed for the longest. She had been with him through thick and thin, bad times and good times, from the start to the end.

Ayano Tateyama was also a humanitarian, someone who genuinely cared about the welfare of others. Ayano was nice, kind, and considerate. She was so much like a view of one's "ideal" human, except for the lack of book smarts. Ayano Tateyama couldn't do math to save her life. Fortunately, computers could, and she could use computers.

Ayano was so many things. She had been Shinaro's only constant companion throughout the years of world dominating. Ayano had been the only person who'd stayed by his side the whole time, and hadn't attempted to kill him. Ayano had been his best friend, no perhaps a bit closer than that. Or was that just Shintaro's imagination?

Did Shintaro want them to be closer? Had he perhaps, felt attracted to Ayano Tateyama? The woman had been beautiful, but did Shintaro feel _that_ way about her?

It only took a few minutes of denial, pushing the matter away and rejecting the truth for Shintaro to realize.

Shintaro Kisaragi had loved Ayano Tateyama.

The one life Shintaro had truly cared about, was Ayano. He wouldn't care one smidge if the rest of the world burned, so long as Ayano still found reason to smile. Of course, Ayano being Ayano, she wouldn't want that.

How many of Shintaro's actions had been because he wanted to please this wonderful girl?

Too many.

How many selfish deeds would Shintaro have committed without her guiding presence?

Too many.

But now that Shintaro thought about it, he had done his fair share of "good" throughout his life, even if guided by Ayano. So maybe, just maybe, they would both end up in the same afterlife, in the same side of the spectrum between good and evil.

Shintaro reached down, lifting a floor panel to grab hold of pistol. He raised the pistol to his head, feeling the cold metal on his scalp.

Shintaro had a choice.

He could, on the one hand, kill himself. By doing so, Shintaro would restore the proper order of things in the world, at risk of starting World War Six through the system's total collapse. However, there stood the slim chance of Shintaro reuniting with Ayano, the one person he cared about, who was no longer in this plane of existence.

On the other hand, Shintaro could keep going, following Ayano's beliefs and principles, the idea that universal happiness is a form of peace. He could keep the law, the systems, and gradually shift the dependence of the system on zombies to another force in preparation for Shintaro's eventual death.

On one hand, selfishness.

On the other, the public welfare.

In the first, there was the possibility of meeting Ayano sooner than later, if at all.

In the second, there was the guaranteed chance of being able to regulate and modify the world's current organization to one better suited for the world as a whole.

Shintaro didn't even need to think: he knew which one was more important to him. A grin graced his mirthless lips as Shintaro Kisaragi, the necromancer, the dictator, the humanitarian ruler shot himself clean through the head and collapsed to the ground.

* * *

When Shintaro next felt anything, he was at a junction, and he saw two gates.

One was bright, shining like a light, a stairway leading up to heaven, with a more convenient elevator placed beside it most likely for those who couldn't walk.

The other was a gate of literal darkness, a charred trail leading into the ground. Steam emerged faintly from the hole, like a volcanic vent.

Shintaro knew which side Ayano would be. Ayano would be in Heaven, having walked through the gate of light and up the stairs into the brilliant eternity that awaited her. That was what she deserved.

But what about Shintaro? What did he deserve?

Shintaro had done good, yes, but how much of it was of his own volition?

How much of the planet-wide good that Shintaro had spread was because Shintaro wanted it to come to fruition?

If Shintaro were to be truthful, very very little of it. World domination doesn't normally match up with world peace, nor would zombie legions and mind control, or nukes and missile warfare. Sure, one could argue that in the end, everything had turned out fine and dandy, but what about his motives? Did Shintaro ever set out to do good in the first place?

The answer, Shintaro knew, would be no. He hadn't. Shintaro had wanted to take over the world for the fun of it. He had resurrected Ayano in the first place for no purpose other than to grow his legion.

Shintaro knew, in his heart, that he was no benevolent force.

Shintaro knew he belonged in Hell.

With that thought, Shintaro found himself being guided towards the dark gates leading down into the abyss. Shintaro's body moved against his will, ignoring his brain's impulses, controlled by a power greater than anything Shintaro had ever known. Shintaro knew, at that point, that he would never see Ayano Tateyama again.

Surely Ayano would be up in the sunny paradise of Heaven, enjoying the rest of her eternity as she so deserved.

And Shintaro? Shintaro would serve the rest of his life in neverending torment.

It was cruel, but just. Shintaro knew he was not a "good" person, not by any standard or ideal.

The verdict was fair.

The verdict was honest.

The verdict was lawful.

Yet deep down, somewhere in that dark room Shintaro called a heart, he had wished for that light again, to see Ayano Tateyama once more.

But he never would again.

_Goodbye, Ayano_.

**More happy endings!  
Plot twist: it's not actually the ending.**


	23. Necromancer Kisaragi (3)

**Not sure if this turned out exactly how I wanted it to. Oh well.**

**Also, here's a fun fact: Hello Mr. Wolf (6) has more visitors than Hello Mr. Wolf (4) as well as Hello Mr. Wolf (5). I don't understand this, but okay.**

**And KaNOT Stop KaNO has more than Hello Mr. Wolf (6).**

**Another fun fact: More than 50% of viewers are turned off by the intro. **

**Anyhow, without a further ado, the final installment of Necromancer Kisaragi EVEN THOUGH I FORGOT TO PUBLISH IT FOR FIVE HOURS**.

Necromancer Kisaragi (3)

_Every few hundred years, a youth of unnatural necrotic potential arises from the depths of humanity, always either carving out terror in the populace or ceasing to exist before they could do so. Although necromancers are not always these pristine talents, the art is insanely difficult otherwise, and innate skill is valued over that of effort and hardwork. No matter how much one with no aptitude tries, they will never be able to summon even a rat from the realm of the afterlife, much like how a human skull will never be strong enough to withstand the force of an elephant sitting on it. _

_\- Online Guide to Necromancy: How to Start Your own Zombie Legion!_

It didn't take Shintaro very long to tell that there was no way to tell time. Between eternal torment and more eternal torment, there were no clocks or calendars to help out with the process. Shintaro supposed it was intended so that the eternally tormented would never truly realize how many eternities of torment they would go through. Maybe it was intended to destroy the victim's sense of self and time in the countless tortures to be experienced in hell.

Perhaps Shintaro was a little different. Maybe, just maybe, he was a bit odd. It seemed that none of the other tortured ones had been able to keep track of the exact time in seconds since their deaths. It might've been because of how Shintaro had needed to keep track of millions of minds, but even in death, his internal clock kept ticking, and recorded time down to the minute for every single timezone. In a way, their inability to sleep was perhaps the most useful contributor to this ability: sleeping usually threw Shintaro off by a few seconds.

Thus, Shintaro knew that exactly three hundred and thirty-four years had passed before the eternal torment ceased.

How had the torture promised to last forevermore stopped? Well, Shintaro had been doing nothing that day, a test in a different kind of torture, where the tortured can do nothing and only nothing, blindfolded in a room while shackled in place. Of course, insects and other animals were allowed to roam free in the room, typically bloodsucking ones, as well as those that would burrow under one's phantasmal flesh.

Shintaro didn't care much for the burrowing, but it wasn't too bad to him. Shintaro had spread a zombie plague through similar bugs, so he was rather familiar with them. Another useless torture. It was hard to torture someone who had once shouldered the emotional and physical burdens of several trillion organisms during wartime, even if only a few billion of those were human souls.

Now, of course, being a permanent resident of Hell, Shintaro had no choice in his coming, leaving, starting or ending of the tortures. Yet all the same, Shintaro felt the tug, the soul wrenchingly familiar rope that fastened itself around his mind and pulled hard.

Shintaro knew this feeling oh-so-very well, except _from the other end of the spectrum_.

It was a necromancer, yanking his soul from the dark abyss of Hell and back into the realm of the living, offering a body and a second chance in life. Shintaro wondered if this was what every zombie he'd taken control of felt.

It wasn't exactly a horrible sensation, just different. It was indescribable; to have one's soul torn from its current alignment and redepositing itself back into surrounding life.

An alarm sounded, Shintaro presumed because of his soon-to-be disappearance. Perhaps those administering the punishments didn't want the once world-wide feared necromancer to meet a new one?

A good idea, Shintaro supposed. Most people would be rather bitter towards the world after going through extreme tormentation. As long as Shintaro had free will in this second life, or heck, was even allowed to _talk_ about necromancy, he could easily instate a new world order within five years. Perhaps the new fancy smancy technology might bump that to at most a decade, but everything could be hacked.

In the few moments Shintaro had before he would escape the fiery abyss, he wondered why he was being brought back, and why only now, centuries after his death. Had necromancy really faded that far into oblivion?

It was true that even in Shintaro's time; necromancy was thought to be an idiot's dream, something out of a fantasy novel. Yet Shintaro had proved its existence for the world at large. Considering that, why had anyone allowed his remains to have a What had happened?

As the pain and constant feeling that something _alive _was bubbling up on his arm faded away, Shintaro felt himself being jerked hard through the material plane of the afterlife into another, perhaps more familiar realm.

* * *

The light was bright, a star shining through thick yet clear material. Shintaro glanced to the side, staring into the light that illuminated everything. Was this the sun?

Shintaro looked down to his own body. He was nude, but years of resurrecting humans let him overlook that. Shintaro flexed a muscle, moved a joint. Shintaro was in the body of his mid-twenties again, most probably the exact same form he'd taken just before he'd shot himself.

Huh.

So this was how zombies felt.

It was something like that of a human, yet it was distinctly eerie. It was like finishing a product, and then when you look it over you think something's off. You don't know what, but you feel something is. That's what Shintaro felt.

Something.

Was.

Wrong.

Shintaro felt a magic linking him to another life form.

Ignoring how… _different_ being the zombie as opposed to controlling the zombie was, Shintaro was acutely aware that he was not only linked to _one_ controller, but many.

Shintaro looked forward for the first time, setting his gaze down on four youths in front of him. Odd. They were younger than Shintaro had been when he resurrected Ayano.

Four children, all looking around ten or so, with extremely odd fashion statements. Shintaro supposed that it was really him that was odd, because obviously these kids would be more up to date with the current styles.

Three of the children gaped at Shintaro. The last one had her eyes covered up, another child having wrapped his arms around her.

The one who caught Shintaro's attention was the girl who was blind to him, a girl with extremely long white hair dressed in what Shintaro could only call a _stereotypical frilly western dress_. Despite her situation, despite how the girl was blindfolded by the boy she clung to, Shintaro knew that this girl was the real source of power. This girl was his initial summoner, the rest only surrogates.

Next, naturally by his position, the boy his initial summoner clung to, a boy draped in green from head to toe. His mouth was open, maybe in shock, maybe in fear, as he covered the girl's.

Third, a sketchy looking blonde kid gaped at him. What were they all so surprised about?

So Shintaro came back to life as a zombie, the man who had conquered the world in two years and brought world peace after getting bored with the planet. What of it?

Finally, a girl with green hair, dressed in purple. As flashy and colourful as she was, this girl covered her face, as if wanting to hide. She still peeked out from the gaps between her fingers, but again, she looked as surprised as the other two.

Why were they-

Oh.

Shintaro was still nude.

These were all children.

If anyone were to see this, fingers would immediately be pointed at him as a _rapist_, a _child molester_. How strangely reminiscent of his first summoning.

"Could you get me some clothing?" Shintaro asked, calm as could be. "Brilliant summoning, I must say, but resurrection only retrieves the soul, not the clothes they wore."

The blonde one slowly handed Shintaro a set of robes, large enough to accommodate his adult frame. Shintaro dressed himself swiftly, waiting for his _summoners_ to say something.

"Marry, you can look now." The green one said quietly, and the seemingly albino girl, now known as "Marry" turned. Shintaro blinked. Marry looked completely innocent in every way, from her wide eyes to her shivering lips. It was hard to believe that this trembling girl was the one responsible for his resurrection.

"Okay." Marry's soft voice resounded through the silent room.

"So." Shintaro began, not bothering to wait any longer. "Why have you resurrected me?"

"We want you to help us take over the galaxy." The blonde one bowed his head lightly. Shintaro catalogued that bit of information: in the past few centuries, humans had achieved space travel on huge scales and become able to inhabit planets and mass-produce spaceships.

"Please, oh wise-and-powerful one." The green-haired one bowed deeply.

Shintaro laughed. It was amusing, seeing a congregation of kids young enough to be _grade-schoolers_ bowing down to him and sucking up to him.

"And why do you want that?" Shintaro wondered, bemused.

"Because the world is wrong!" The blonde one cried out.

A bit rude, but Shintaro would take it. Maybe this one was a little righteous. That was a much better reason to take over the plane- galaxy than Shintaro's reason.

"But that's so boring! You know what you all should try?" Shintaro asked, a smile coming to his face.

"Galactic (World) Peace."

_I may never see you again Ayano, even if I guide these children back onto the socially acceptable morally "right" path._

_I may spend years of effort in vain, coaxing immature kids to give up their ambitions. _

_I may just end up right back in Hell, to suffer for a true eternity, while you stay in heaven. _

_For all I know, you could already have forgotten me, and I could end up heartbroken, even if I do see you._

_But until then, I'll never stop trying, just to meet you once more._

_Ayano, I hope you can wait a few decades, because galactic scale peace will be much, much more difficult than any world domination plan._

_Still, I can do it. If it's only this much, I think I can bring some happiness to this_ galaxy.

**Somewhat less happy ending than the last one. In fact, I think I might regret adding this part, since it makes Shintaro almost seem like a decent person. Can't have that, after all.**


	24. ChunniKido

**I wrote this practically in forty minutes. More proof that the more trash something is, the faster I write it. This is even more trash than To Dream a Dream of Dreaming Dreams, if that was even possible.**

**Did you know that on the Kagepro wiki, it says that Kido used to suffer from chunnibyou?**

**Also, ending was inspired by one of the wonderful stories of the Spicy anthology. If you've read it, I'm sure you know.**

ChunniKido

Shintaro sometimes wondered why he always got saddled with the bad jobs.

Whether it were cleaning up, or eating Momo's cooking when Konoha was out, Shintaro always seemed to be the one who had to do the distasteful tasks.

However, on one very special day, one that Shintaro would remember until he went unconscious, Shintaro found that clean-up chore to be amusing.

Why, oh why was this chore amusing?

Well, it was rather simple.

As Shintaro had been sweeping, in his frustration over being forced into the role, he aggressively pulled the mop across the ground. There was just this one spot, this oh-so-annoying little smidge of wood that Shintaro couldn't get rid of.

Now, any logical person in their right mind would realize it was probably immovable, and go on with their lives.

Shintaro however, although logical, was not in his proper thinking state. Instead, Shintaro kept on swiping the spot over and over and over and over again, venting his frustration into the little piece of raised wood.

It did wonders, but after a few minutes of this, Shintaro came to a conclusion.

That piece of wood _was_ part of the floorboards. Who knew?

Then it wasn't.

One moment it was.

The next, it wasn't.

The board cracked, the raised end falling down into who knows where. Shintaro became acutely aware that it had been a _loose_ _board_, not an intentionally OCD aggravating bump.

Go figure.

Shintaro, wanting an excuse to put down the mop, paused, reaching down into that black hole that the floorboard used to cover.

Shintaro's hand grasped something moist. Was that… a dead rat? No, that was the wet sponginess of the mop.

Right. Move the wet mop _away _from the place you're sticking your hand into. What a brilliant idea!

After doing just that, Shintaro, having not learned his lesson the first time, once again plunged his hand into the dark abyss of the hollow space below a floorboard.

Something moist? Was it something alive and breathing, or something once alive and breathing, or was it something else that the mop's sogginess had gotten wet?

From that gaping cavity in the ground, Shintaro retrieved a scrapbook, a _slightly wet_ scrapbook, but a scrapbook nonetheless. It even said "Scrapbook" on the front, for good measure of how much like a scrapbook the scrapbook was on a scale of not-scrapbook to scrapbook using scrapbook as a scrapbooking unit for scrapbooking scrapbooks.

Shintaro gently placed the scrapbook on the nearby table, and slowly pushed the couch over a bit so that it'd cover the hole.

Heave.

Ho.

Perfect.

It was nearly invisible, unless you bent down, had eyes, and looked at where the hole was.

In other words, it was as close to perfection as Shintaro had the patience to achieve.

Shintaro left the mop by the table, and immediately examined the scrapbook, curious as to why the scrapbook had been doing what scrapbooks do _in the space below a loose floorboard_.

Upon further attention, Shintaro noticed one very important detail. On the bottom right corner, the word "Kano" was hastily scrawled. Below that, were the words "DO NOT TOUCH".

What a brilliant suggestion! That would totally put off every single person who would potentially want to know what might be in the scrapbook.

Or not.

Maybe saying "do not touch" would be an incentive for any random viewer to want to read the scrapbook.

After all, humans were stubborn little pieces of annoying scum. They enjoyed disobeying rules, orders, and much more to satisfy their curiosity.

Thus, Shintaro slowly cracked open the scrapbook, almost afraid of what Kano had been hiding away in that little pocket of dark space.

Shintaro caught a glimpse of something dark, darker than even the dark space he'd retrieved this scrapbook with dark images in.

But then, Marry opened the door, as if checking on Shintaro's progress. Shintaro immediately slammed the scrapbook shut, afraid of the possibility Kano might've put anything NSFW in the scrapbook. Marry's implied innocence was obviously worth more than Kano's secrets.

Marry glanced around the room, before closing the door again. She seemed satisfied with his progress. Maybe it was because no one else in the Dan ever cleaned anything when _oh-so-helpful_ _Shintaro_ was around.

Once Shintaro was sure that Marry had gone, even taking the care to listen to the little pit-pat-pit-pat of her slippers, only then did Shintaro even _think_ to open the scrapbook again.

Shintaro again, slowly opened the scrapbook, catching another glimpse at the horrors hidden inside, the devastatingly dark horrors of darker than dark darkness. It confirmed his first suspicion, the horrifyingly horribly horrid suspicion it was, so horrible that he hadn't even thought to think about it to the reader who is obviously not going to think about this clear shattering of the fourth wall.

But then, yet again, Shintaro was interrupted from feasting his eyes on the terrible images held within the scrapbook. This time, it was Seto, who emerged in all his froggy glory, just in time to see Shintaro hastily toss the scrapbook onto the table and take up the mop again, feigning work.

"I'm so sorry they made you clean up again." Seto apologized.

"I don't care." Shintaro deadpanned. "Someone has to do it."

"Well, if I hadn't had so many jobs, I could have… good work anyway Shintaro." Seto patted Shintaro on the shoulder, blissfully unaware of the contents of the scrapbook that lay on the table.

With that last farewell, Seto left Shintaro all alone, like Marry had, closing the door behind him. Shintaro was now free to gaze all he wanted at the wonderfully eerie contents of the scrapbook.

Shintaro hefted the scrapbook into his hands yet again, beginning to become used to the feeling of the scrapbook's strong fabrics. Shintaro hoped he would remain acquainted with the scrapbook in the future. Despite the inky black dark as darkness dark in the scrapbook portrayed in dark blackness, it was still beautiful in a way Shintaro couldn't even hope to understand.

Without any further interruptions, Shintaro dived deep into the scrapbook, examining every image and taking the appropriate time to enjoy each one to the fullest, whether it be a full body shot or a group shot. Shintaro devoted the time to each one as was deserved.

In this deep revelation of relevating relevations, Shintaro must've let his guard down at some point. How did he know he had let his guard down?

Well, it was simple!

Kano had managed to walk in, without Shintaro realizing. Now, the blonde was usually quite good at remaining light-footed, much like a cat, but this was uncanny. It was as if Kano had known that Shintaro had looked at his secretly kept scrapbook. In fact, if Kido knew Kano had kept this scrapbook, it was likely he would lack a bed. And food. And a home. And money.

Still, Shintaro wasn't quite sure how to engage a conversation with Kano, who was smiling eerily wide next to him.

"I-I-I can explain." Shintaro stuttered, slamming the scrapbook shut.

"No need!" Kano chirped cheerfully.

"I-I found it in the little cavity beneath the-"

"I know where it was." Kano smirked. "Did these images of your danchou… entertain you?"

Shintaro nodded.

"Are you curious of _why_ exactly she did that? Do you wonder _how_ I managed to take those pictures without Kido caring?" Kano asked like a machine gun, as if knowing Shintaro's answer would be yes.

Shintaro nodded again.

"Well, it all started in eighth grade. You are familiar with _chunnibyou,_ yes?"

Shintaro nodded.

Chunnibyou was an ailment common to eighth graders, so much so that it as even named after eighth graders. It usually referred to when the person became so delusional that… oh.

So that was why Kido had posed in such awkward mannerisms.

So that was why Kido had worn such… awkward clothing.

So that was why Kido had coerced Kano, Seto, and even Ayano into portraying her fantasy settings.

So that was why this scrapbook existed; to be a constant reminder of what Kido had once been, as a warning to future generations.

In that sense, Kano had done a wonderful job, compiling these images for the entertainme- _good_ of future generations. For once, Shintaro felt compelled to thank the blonde for his contribution to the future.

"Would you like to hear about some of Kido's ah, _stories_?" Kano asked.

Shintaro thought for the briefest of moments, before settling on a decision that would decide his fate.

"Yes please."

* * *

Kido had been having a rough day. It was hard enough juggling a part-time job along with one's studies, and even if the job was only serving tables, it was enough of a complication of its own.

For one, the uniform reminded Kido awfully of her _childhood_, something that she did not want to touch on. Having to speak _politely_ was another big no-no, even if Kido's co-workers told her she looked adorable. Especially troubling were the older males who would give her… _glances_.

Still, the part-time job was good for maintaining the status quo around the apartment, and to not rely so much on Momo for money. Sure, Momo had the money, and it wouldn't hurt her much at all to fund them, but _not_ working would be mentally weakening. They had to work for what they got. Or rather, Seto and her did for the apartment. Kano had managed to avoid getting a single job.

Break. How luxurious. Kido sighed. It was enough trouble merely handling Kano back at the apartment that this job wasn't even that bad. To Kido, handling customers was much, much easier than taking care of Kano.

Then her phone beeped.

It was Ene, the mischievous little cyber-girl. Ene had sent her a message in the form of an audio file. Packaged along with the audio file was the message "You'd better run fast!"

Odd.

Very odd.

Kido wondered what exactly Ene meant, not sure if she wanted to know what the audio file contained.

But in the end, her curiosity got the better of her.

Kido opened the audio file, and over the course of three minutes, changed from her regular pale complexion to beetroot red, and dashed off to the apartment.


	25. Dr Tateyama and Mr Eyes

**Judging by the title, it's pretty obvious where the inspiration comes from. As I've once again disappeared for two days straight, I wanted to at least do something for the last day I'll be working on this fanfiction. Assuming all goes well, I'll have another one up within two hours or so. Anyhow, Kenjirou gets some love! Sort of.**

Dr. Tateyama and Mr. Eyes

Kenjirou Tateyama, despite only being a teacher, was a well respected man. He was praised by his peers for his hard work in "taking all the difficult students", and by parents for his strong strive for good effort. The students were all rather fond of him as well, for being a strict yet reasonable teacher.

Still, despite his relative success for a teacher, Kenjirou Tateyama was a lonely man. It was said that he attracted misfortune: his wife had died, then his daughter and his two students on the same day, then his four foster children moved out. It could only be described as a cruel twist of fate, how badly Kenjirou's life had turned for the worse.

Perhaps more troubling was the fact that Kenjirou had no clue _why_ this was happening. Sure, he could tack it down to the world hating him, but Kenjirou was a man of science. Kenjirou wouldn't take the 'mere whims of fate' as an answer to his tragedy. Still, he had nothing else he could think of, because believing some _greater power_ had been responsible for it would be going even father out.

In a short period of two years, Kenjirou had lost his wife, his biological child, and his foster children. It was no small burden, but he carried it nonetheless, occasionally wondering why it was so.

From time to time, Kenjirou would phone in with the kids, but they would never pick up. Even if they did, he would hear a bit of yelling in the background before it'd shut off. They were clearly avoiding him, even going out of their way to rent an apartment to leave the building. Kenjirou had no clue, however, as to why. It was a troublesome thing really, a very worrisome thing, to be so clueless about one's own life.

It first occurred to Kenjirou when he had been leafing through Ayano's old school things, in a wave of nostalgia fueled by longing. No, perhaps not because of that. Perhaps it had to do with the book Kenjirou had picked up, one he would always skip over because he'd always hated English.

It was called the "Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde", a story about a well-known scientist who harbored a split personality that would come out at night. Although normally perfectly fine and well-mannered, Dr. Jekyll's other side, Mr. Hyde was a ruthless killer and a horrid murderer.

It dawned on Kenjirou at that moment, at that specific little blip in time. He laughed a hollow laugh, and imagined himself in the role of Dr. Jekyll, the scientist who'd slowly let his other side eat away at him. It was amusing at first… but then Kenjirou realized there were legitimate parallels.

For one, Kenjirou had difficulty remembering his nocturnal activities. It was hazy, like running through fog. Kenjirou would have the faintest notion that he hadn't spent the night marking tests, and that perhaps he had been elsewhere, judging by the mud stains on his normally impeccable shoes. Yet all the tests and assignments were marked, a feat too great for a single night.

Kenjirou had waved everything off as insignificant. The mud? Probably just an old remnant, ignoring how fresh it was. The wet jacket? Maybe he left a window open during the night's rain.

Kenjirou realized that he'd been ignoring every little detail, everything that seemed the slightest bit significant about his nightly actions. It would feel as if he'd slept fine, and his work was usually done, so Kenjirou had just thrown his suspicions away, blaming them on a bad dream.

But was it one?

Ayano had committed suicide. His foster children moved out practically as soon as humanely possible.

What if…

What if these incidents were linked?

The nights spent in a daze… alcohol?

The kids running from him, even _fearing_ him maybe, could that have been Kenjirou's fault?

In a cold sweat, Kenjirou raced around the house, searching everywhere he could for any trace of alcohol. Anything, a stash, a hidden cupboard, anyplace anywhere could be suspicious. Still, after a good half hour of searching, it hit Kenjirou that even in his worst hangovers from his youth; even those left him with _some_ impression of what he'd done. It was one thing for the memories to be hard to tell, and another entirely for them to be practically _nonexistent_.

It was frustrating; it really was, trying to remember something so important, yet just out of reach. Kenjirou felt like the donkey with the carrot, the dog held by the leash, the oddest feeling that _something_ was toying with him. Kenjirou was by no means a dumb man, and he knew, _he knew_ that something was going on.

Yet still, even then Kenjirou had no evidence to base his thoughts off of. His recollections were too unclear, too indescribable to make assumptions from. Kenjirou hadn't found any alcohol or suspicious drugs of any sort, nor had he any reason to suspect himself of such substances under any other circumstances.

So why was it that Kenjirou felt so cheated?

He didn't know.

He didn't understand.

He didn't know how to understand.

Then Kenjirou Tateyama blinked hard, nearly dropping the expensive pieces of china he'd been fumbling around with.

When the teacher's eyes refocused, _they were a pure crimson shade of red, like that of fresh blood_.


	26. Hazy Days in the Daze

**Last day, eh? I suppose I'll leave the AN at the bottom.**

Hazy Days in the Daze

Marry paused, the rapid sounds of keystrokes dying down to a dull silence in the dark room.

It wasn't that Marry didn't know how to continue her words, nor was it that she lacked the plot necessary to fill in the chapter. No, it was something much more common, yet all the more dangerous. If Marry couldn't tell what to put down next, she could just hammer out of her head, and she'd remember it for as long as she lived. But this? This was something Marry could not control. This was something much scarier.

"Oba-sama!" A child's voice cried out. One- no, two children pounded on the door, beating their plump little fists on the strong doorframe.

Marry sometimes wondered if she was cursed or blessed by her longevity, it was a horrible thing, to watch those you love slowly wither and die, yet at the same time-

"Go on _Oba-sama_, your great great great great great great grandchildren are waiting for you." A cheery voice mocked, the sound disrupting Marry's calm and quiet set-up of instrumental music. The voice rang throughout the room, Marry covering her ears from the sudden racket.

"I'm physically twenty-four Takane, and we've talked about this." Marry sighed. "I can't concentrate when you make so much noise. Go back to your game development, I don't have time for you."

Takane Enomoto. A very curious entity, she was one of the few members of the Dan who had received a power that granted… immortality. The only other was Konoha, and the two had spearheaded a rather successful "indie" game company. Of course, it had to be kept rather secret that the two members were over a-

"Nyeh." Takane stuck out her tongue from the monitor, showing the side of her that was oddly popular among her company's fans.

Yet, despite that, Marry knew better. A hundred years of being with a person, and you learn a lot about them. Takane wasn't so much this cheerful bubbly little _Ene_ as she pretended to be, or _not anymore_, but Marry didn't call her out on it. It was nice, the reminiscent feeling, the _nostalgia_, but Marry dismissed the thoughts. It was distracting to her work.

"Marry, you might want to handle those little imps out there." Takane suggested, and Marry realized that the kids were still pounding.

"What?" Marry asked, sliding the door open, wincing at the natural light that streamed into her dimly lit room from the open windows.

"Mom says you should come out more often." One imp said. Kido and Kano's grandson, eh? He had Kido's hair and face, but spoke almost as devilishly as Kano had. It was almost scary to watch, imagining Kido as Kano.

"Yeah oba-sama, you should spend more time with us!" Marry's own granddaughter smiled sweetly, so much so that in that brief moment of blissful recollection, Marry forgot about her irritation. It made Marry wonder

"I'm twenty-four, don't call me oba-sama." Marry scolded her granddaughter, bending down to flick the child's forehead. Her granddaughter recoiled as if stung, still managing to be adorable even then.

"Maybe in a little bit." Marry smiled lightly. "This… _oba-sama_… has some work to do. I need to finish my opening-"

"We can help you with that!" Kano's grandson smirked. "You'll never guess how big the house I built was, it was huge!" Marry stared at the boy, wondering if she could slowly edge back into the safe safe confines of her room.

"She's writing a book." Marry's granddaughter frowned. "Oba- Auntie doesn't like games like that. Auntie doesn't have much time, see. Auntie, should we stop bothering you now?"

Marry realized that maybe she was too out of sync with this new generation. Even if they were her own flesh and blood, even if they were the direct descendents of her closest friends, or even _her own_, Marry didn't spend much time with the kids.

In fact, Marry didn't spend much time with other people at all, having recently shut herself up with another _smash_ of inspiration to write about. It was perhaps her favourite and most hated story, one that Marry had known very well for the past hundred and ten years, one that Marry hadn't dared touch for fear of ruining it by putting fingers to keyboard.

So when Marry's editor had said that he wanted something a little more… _fantasy-oriented_, Marry jumped at the chance, describing the entire chain of events in detail, going on about the relations and likes and dislikes, everything and anything she remembered with her perfect memory. He had been floored of course, having merely wanted to pass a suggestion, but instead getting a huge plotline with several developed characters.

Thus, a hundred and ten years after the dreaded Summer had come to an end, Marry was reopening its doors once more, bringing back memories dreaded and known, experiences loved and hated, but still, the prize-winning author couldn't think of a way to even _start_ the story.

Marry broke herself out of her self-induced reverie, and smiled awkwardly at the children.

"It's fine… _Auntie_… has time to spare right now." Marry glanced around, letting her eyes adjust to the natural light. It had burned a little at first, but now it was getting a little better.

The children looked as if they'd won the lottery, found Merlin, sacked the fire-cat, or discovered a butterfly ring oh-so-conveniently left behind. Marry could tell just by looking at their faces that they hadn't had the slightest hope of Marry Kozakura, their grandmother or grandparent's friend, the award winning author of world-wide fame, the legendary recluse who was unknown to anyone but the editor who refused to answer any questions.

Marry supposed it was better than spending some more time puzzling over the opening. As familiar as Marry was with the stories of that everlasting summer, of the Dan and her closest friends, Marry didn't know who to focus the novel on, or use as the main character. Everyone had been so amazing, so important, or so that was how Marry remembered the times through her fourteen year old self.

Perhaps that was all a way of deluding herself. Deep down, Marry knew that maybe, just maybe, it was her own self-doubt that stopped her from starting the first sentence, from typing up the chapters in four hour sessions. It was the fear of failure. Despite all the awards, despite all the praise, Marry feared putting down her life's story, the story _she had wanted to learn how to write for_, and messing it up. If it was anything but perfect…

"Tell us a story!" Her granddaughter suggested. Good, Marry was no good with physical exercise. Anything more than a slow walk would be exhausting.

"No, we should go out!" Kano's grandson argued. "It's a really nice day and-"

"Auntie can't go out, remember?" Her granddaughter shut him down, shoving a surprising amount of force into such a weak voice.

"R-right. I ah, forgot." At least Kano's grandson had some sense of decency. He wasn't _exactly_ like his grandfather, even if his mother had complained so much.

"Besides, Auntie makes money from telling stories, so she should be a good storyteller."

Marry let a self-indulgent smile through. Although Marry was the world-renowned author, Shintaro had been the one to put in long hours educating her about the world of writing, the only subject that Shintaro hadn't aced with a full 100% during university, because of the ambiguity that went along with it. Although most praised Shintaro's work with a dead-set passion, his professor that year had managed to take away _just_ enough marks to drop him to a 99 average.

"What story do you want to hear?" Marry asked, leading them into her little cave of a room. The two children settled down on the bed, leaving Marry to turn her work chair around to face them. Takane peered out with curiosity from the monitor.

Marry had memorized a good number of children's tales for the purpose of reading to her children, and for… _personal_ reasons, so she knew she wasn't lacking in that department. If worst came to worst and they knew all of it, her own novels would probably have been advanced enough that the two wouldn't have touched them.

"How about the one you have cooking right now?" Takane suggested sweetly, smiling innocently. Marry glared at her.

"Yeah! You were having trouble right? We can help you out, right?" Kano's grandson erupted. Marry had to wonder where exactly that child was getting his enthusiasm from. The other side of the family?

"You can't help dummy, you'd only make it worse." Marry's granddaughter again, showed a strange conviction in telling her friend off. Marry wondered whether her granddaughter looked up to her somewhat, but dismissed it. Who would look up to a life-long recluse?

"…Fine, where do you want me to start?" Marry asked hesitantly. She hadn't exactly _begun_ the story, or chosen how to start it, so it was better to ask the children.

"It's the story of the Mekakushi Dan, so you should be familiar with it." Marry explained, catching their bewildered looks. "I'm finally going to be writing a series on it."

"Shintaro of course!" Kano's grandchild called out. Odd. Marry would have thought the boy's grandfather would've asked for more worshipping. It served just as well though.

"Alright." Marry obliged, and she began the tale from Shintaro's perspective, captivating the two children with words woven from the wonders of language, just detailed enough that they would be able to imagine it themselves, but thinly used so that the two would understand all of it. It wasn't exactly a new story, but Marry found that the children didn't care so much for that either.

Perhaps it was new to them, to hear the story of the everlasting summer from Shintaro's perspective, with the others used sparingly for story elements that Shintaro hadn't been privy to.

They left, two hours later, much longer than Marry had expected to entertain them for, but oddly enough, Marry came out just as satisfied as the boisterous young kids.

That night, Marry didn't go to dinner, as she usually did.

Marry didn't go to sleep either.

Why, one might ask?

Because Marry had gotten her start, her main character, her _muse_ and inspiration.

So Marry kept on writing through the night, ignoring her body's complaints, taking flight in the text she wrote, in the prose she drafted, in the story she remembered wholly and to the every dot. It was perfection. It was flawless.

And Marry would have it no other way.

_PROMPT – Write about a special summer's evening._

**Huh, I actually got this prompt like two weeks ago, but felt it would do better as the conclusion rather than a random little one-shot. **

**And wow, this got a bit bigger than I suppose I expected it to be. Or smaller, perhaps, since my original goal was thirty one shots, one a day (hence thirty days in the daze) and forty-five thousand words, but life caught up to me and I procrastinated. Still, for some odd reason, I feel a sense of accomplishment, despite not really having accomplished my goal. **

**Oh well, I guess I still came pretty close, with twenty-five chapters and _almost_ forty-five thousand words. On fanfictiondotnet, it might show up as over that maybe, with all the notes I stick on, but eh. Without them, it's roughly forty-two thousand.**

**Regardless, thanks for reading all the way to the end, and I hope my lack of editing hasn't burned anyone's eyes too much, haha. **

**Here's a list of the days (of April) I completed the chapters in:**

**1 - April Fools' (1)**

**2 - April Fools' (2)**

**3 - Money up in Smoke**

**4 - Summer Haze**

**5 - Too Chicken for Panda**

**6 - The Hikki &amp; The NEET**

**7 - To Dream a Dream of Dreaming Dreams in Dreams**

**8 - What Does a Sibling Mean?**

**9 - Reminder of Days Long Gone**

**10 - N/A**

**11 - Indication of Days to Come**

**12 - Swimming With the Fishes ||| Invisible Woman**

**13 - N/A**

**14 -Hello Mr. Wolf (1)**

**15 - N/A**

**16 - N/A**

**17 - N/A**

**18 - Hello Mr. Wolf (2)**

**19 - N/A**

**20 - Hello Mr. Wolf (3) ||| KaNOT Stop KaNO**

**21 - Hello Mr. Wolf (4)**

**22 - Hello Mr. Wolf (5)**

**23 - Hello Mr. Wolf (6)**

**24 - N/A**

**25 - N/A**

**26 - Necromancer Kisaragi (1) ||| Necromancer Kisaragi (2) **

**27 - Necromancer Kisaragi (3) ||| ChunniKido**

**28 - N/A**

**29 - N/A**

**30 - Dr. Tateyama &amp; Mr. Eyes ||| Hazy Days in the Daze**


End file.
